


Unglued

by Elizabeth01Prince



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Happy Ending, Jealous Daryl, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Daryl, Slow Burn, Some Fluff and Angst, Taking care of injured Daryl, Time Travel, Walking Dead AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 68,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth01Prince/pseuds/Elizabeth01Prince
Summary: What happens when Jesus wishes he could've met Daryl earlier in life?(Takes place earlier in the apocalypse)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! My name is Kate and I'm posting this short story on my friend's account for her Birthday! Hope you enjoy it!  
> :)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Throughout this fic, I use prompts that I found on tumblr and other various websites. Some are direct quotes, and some are altered to better fit the story. I want to give these sites credit, and make it clear I am not stealing direct quotes.
> 
> (This fic has been modified since it's original posting)

A soft, light breeze caused the tree branches to sway in the wind. The leaves were beautiful colors of red, yellow, and orange. Everything was quiet. Everything felt right.

Daryl and Paul sat on their front porch, enjoying the peace and quiet. Negan had been captured and locked up months ago. Alexandria was no longer petrified with fear from the saviors. Everyone was finally able to take a much needed break.

Daryl and Paul had gotten together during the war, and had been inseparable ever since. They stayed together during many long nights, enjoying each other's presence. Both men had constant nightmares, but sleeping next to one another seemed to soothe their anxiety. Daryl often dreamed of Paul dying in battle, but waking up and seeing the man sleeping next to him, he would immediately calm down. The war had only made them closer, and many people envied their relationship. Though Paul was grateful for their relationship, he regretted not being able to meet Daryl earlier in life.

Paul turned to Daryl, and frowned. Daryl looked absolutely exhausted. His eyes kept drooping shut, and he looked as though he would fall asleep at any given moment. Paul touched his hand gently, and Daryl looked up with a start.

"I think we should probably go to bed." Paul said quietly.

Daryl grunted in response, and stood up. Paul shook his head in silent laughter. Yes, Daryl never was one for words.

The two men went inside, and slipped into bed a few minutes later. Paul was pretty sure that Daryl was asleep before his head even hit the pillow. He watched Daryl sleep with a look of adoration on his face for a few moments.

Paul eventually closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Daryl, feeling content. Hearing his partner's soft snores relaxed him. He sighed, and began to think.

What would his life be like if he had met Daryl before the apocalypse? Well, they probably would have never gotten together, that was for sure. But he wished that he had been given the chance to meet Daryl before the world had gone to hell.

With these thoughts in mind, Paul starting drifting off into sleep.

There was a low voice in his ear. It was deep and droning, incredibly soothing. Any normal person would fear that they were going insane if they suddenly heard voices talking to them, but the deep voice did not promote fear.

"What would you do, to have the chance to meet Daryl earlier in life?" The voice asked.

"Anything." Paul mumbled, half asleep.

"Really, you would do anything?" The voice inquired.

"Yes." He replied. "Anything."

*****

Paul woke up to sunlight streaming in through the windows. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched his arms above his head. What a strange dream he had last night. There was a voice, and then all these weird red lights...

He shrugged it off. He had weird dreams all the time now.

The bed next to him was empty, so Daryl must have gotten up early.

He didn't feel like getting up yet, so he rolled over and closed his eyes. If he was lucky, he could get another half hour of sleep before someone came to wake him up.

He was about to fall back asleep when someone yelled,

"Paul! Hurry up and get ready! You're going to be late to your job interview!"

Paul jolted up.

He glanced around the room and froze.  
This was not his room In Alexandria. This was his old bedroom in Florida.

He shook his head. This was a dream, but it felt so _real_. 

"Paul!" The voice screamed.

Paul could only stare, face pale. He said nothing. He couldn't move. His bedroom door burst open, and his mother stormed through the door.

"Paul Rovia!" She yelled.

She stopped short when she saw her son's face.

"Paul?" She asked, concern clear in her voice, "What's the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

Paul fought the urge to laugh hysterically. Well, he was seeing a ghost, and that was the problem.

He cleared his throat, trying to gather his chaotic thoughts.

"It's just, I'm not feeling so well." He replied, trying to conceal his nervousness. "I don't think I can do the job interview today."

He couldn't go to a job interview! He had no clue where he was even going.

He wasn't prepared, and most importantly, this wasn't his life. It couldn't be.

His mother let out a small gasp.

"But Darling! You've been looking forward to this interview for months! You have to go!" She protested.

Jesus shook his head.

"I know I've been looking forward to it. But it wouldn't do me much good to be throwing up at the interview, now would it?" He asked.

His mother frowned, looking even more concerned.

"Throwing up?"

Paul nodded in response, and she shook her head.

"Fine. Go back to bed. I'll check on you after work."

Paul frowned, lost in thought. His mother had never worked before. She had always stayed home to take care of him and his siblings.

"Where's dad?" He asked.

His mother stared at him, mouth open.

"Honey, your father has been dead for years now, you know that! Are you sure that you're okay?"

Paul shuddered, desperately trying to process everything. His father was dead?

"Yeah. I um, I must be really tired." He responded distractedly.

His mother looked unconvinced, but didn't say anything else about the matter. She simply left the room, and went downstairs. Paul waited until he heard her car pull out of the garage, then jumped out of bed. He had to figure this out. Now.

He ran downstairs to the office, where there was always a calendar hanging.

He remembered the exact day that he heard about the outbreak on the news, the exact day the world had went to hell. October 20th, 2010.

He ripped the calendar off the wall, and glanced at the year on the front of the calendar. 2010. He flipped through the months, until the red X's on each day disappeared. They stopped after October 18th. That meant today was the 19th. He swore loudly. If the same thing happened as last time, he only had a day to get ready.

What should he do? Try to save his mom? Try to find Daryl? Drive to Hilltop, if it was even there? Try to do all of the above? There was only so much you could do in 24 hours, after all.

Paul ran his hands through his hair, stressed. After a few minutes of deep breathing, he eventually pulled himself together, and made his way towards the kitchen.

He shakily made a cup of coffee, then sat on the couch for awhile, trying to come up with a plan.

After a few minutes of frantic thinking, he finally started to form something that resembled a plan.

He would get a survival kit together, then he would drive to Georgia, where Daryl and Hilltop should be. But what if they weren't there? Things were different now, just like his mom working, and his father being dead.

Paul thought back on the few months he had spent alone after the outbreak. It had been miserable. He didn't want to go through that again. The last time had nearly driven him insane.

What if he couldn't find Daryl? What if he died out there, all alone? He pulled at his hair, exasperated. He took a deep breath. One thing at a time. He needed a survival pack.

*****

It was a few hours later.

Paul had gone to the store, and gathered all the supplies he could possibly think of. He had gotten some strange glances, and he heard the occasional murmur of, "Doomsday hippie freak."

Well, people could judge all they wanted. They had no idea what was about to hit them.

There was no sign of the outbreak yet, but he wasn't going to sit around and wait for it to happen. He needed to get to Georgia.

Last time, all of the roads had been shut down, and there had been no transportation allowed. He didn't want to be stuck in a situation where he had no mode of transportation. He could walk to Georgia if he had to, but he would rather drive.

Paul piled all of his supplies in the car. He still had the same old and rusty Ford Explorer that he remembered. It was strangely comforting to have his old truck back.

He pulled out of the driveway, and started driving. He felt guilty leaving his mom, but he had left her some supplies and note explaining everything. Not that she'd believe him anyway.

But then again, he could hardly believe this was actually happening himself.

He still couldn't fully convince himself that this wasn't a dream.

****

Paul drove all through the night. He listened to the radio the whole time, waiting for a broadcast about the disease outbreak. It never came.

He eventually stopped at a motel to rest for a few hours, but he didn't want to stop for too long. He needed to get to Daryl as soon as possible.

Would Daryl remember him, from before?

That seemed to be his biggest concern for the moment, though he probably had a million other things to worry about.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not force his thoughts away from Daryl.

Would Daryl remember everything that they had been through? He hoped he did, because what would he do without Daryl?

Paul let out a long, suffering sigh. How did this happen? He supposed it wasn't really any more ridiculous than a zombie apocalypse. If that had happened, then why not time Travel?

He crossed the Georgia state line, and began his search for Daryl.

Paul vaguely remembered that Daryl had told him that he lived in the small town of Stockbridge when he was in his thirties. He wondered if he'd still be there, living in a run down farmhouse with his brother. He pulled out his paper map from his backpack, and examined it for a few moments. He quickly found Stockbridge and traced a route there. There was only one way to find out if Daryl still lived there or not.

The radio suddenly crackled to life, and Paul started a bit at the sudden noise. The emergency broadcast siren could be heard, loudly screeching for all to hear.

Paul swore quietly. He had figured this would happen, but he had hoped to find Daryl first.

What if Daryl decided to leave town after he heard about the outbreak? Paul would never be able to find him!

While he thought, the broadcaster began to explain the current situation.

"Attention. There has been a disease outbreak in New York City. We are encouraging everyone to stay indoors until further notice. I repeat, everyone should go indoors immediately."

Paul snorted at the lack of information. Sure, forget to mention that the disease outbreak involved the walking dead and cannidbolism. At least he had time to find Daryl. If the outbreak was contained to New York at the moment, then he had time.

Though he doubted Daryl would stay inside, he didn't think that Daryl would necessarily take off, either. Daryl just needed to stay put for a few hours, until Paul could find him.

If Daryl didn't remember him though, he would be alone. Just like last time...

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

It would be okay.

He and Daryl and been through so much. Daryl couldn't forget.

*******

Two hours later, Paul arrived at the small town of Stockbridge. He entered a small diner, in the center of town. It was a quant little place, that seemed to be stuck in the 80's. Bright neon colors scattered the restaurant, and a large jukebox sat in the back of the room. It was fairly crowded, and Paul decided he would ask around to see if anyone knew were Daryl was.

Paul took a seat at the counter, anxiously awaiting what would happen next. He was placing all his hope in these people. If they couldn't help him find Daryl, then who would?

A waitress came over, and she shot him a giant grin. Her teeth were unnaturally white, and she was a dark shade of orange. Paul never really understood the self tanning trend, not that it mattered now.

"Hiya Sweet Pea." She greeted. "What can I get for you today?"

Paul smiled weakly back in response.

"I'll take a coffee. That's it, please."

"Sugar or cream?"

"No, thanks."

She began to walk away, when he stopped her.

"Wait, I was wondering if you knew a man named Daryl Dixon? Im trying to find him..."

Her large green eyes went wide.

"Daryl Dixon?" She whispered.

Paul hesitated, wondering why she had that particular reaction.

"Yes." He finally stated, firmly.

The waitress swallowed loudly.

"He was arrested a few days ago, for murdering his father." She murmured.

Paul felt his own eyes go wide. He could only nod, surprised. The waitress walked away, visibly shaken.

Ten minutes later, Paul had finished his coffee, not wanting to waste any time. He slammed a few crumpled bills onto the counter, and practically ran back to his rusty truck. He needed to get to the police station, now.

*******

It took him 30 minutes of driving to find the police station. He burst through the doors, panting and a mess.

A police officer glanced up, annoyed.

"Can I help you?" He drawled in a bored tone.

Paul nodded eagerly.

"Yes. I need to see Daryl Dixon." He replied.

The police officer raised an eyebrow.

"You here to bail him out?" The officer asked.

"Um. Yes." Paul said, not knowing what else to do.

The officer nodded and went into the back room. When he returned, he had another officer with him.

"Rick?" Paul blurted.

He couldn't believe it. The man in front of him looked so young. He looked so much... happier. The dark circles under his eyes were non existent. He was clean, his hair neatly combed. This was not the Rick he knew.

Rick frowned.

"Do I know you?" He asked.

Paul shook his head sadly. Rick didn't remember, then.

"Oh. I guess not. My name's Paul Rovia. We um, we went to high school together." He lied smoothly.

Rick narrowed his eyes. He couldn't remember ever seeing the man in front of him before, but then again, he had went to a big high school. He nodded, accepting the lie.

"Yes. Well, the bail is $20,000." He replied, his face clear of any expression.

Paul cringed.

"Yes, of course." He responded.

$20,000 was pretty steep, but it wasn't as though money would matter soon anyway. Thank goodness he had his checkbook...

*******

Daryl sat in a cell at the back of the police station. He wore a neon orange prison uniform. His hair was mated, and sticking up. Dirt and blood covered his face, and his knuckles were dry and cracked, splitting open. Dark circles hung under his eyes, showing the lack of sleep. He sat in the corner of the cell, rocking back and forth and scowling at the floor.

Rick banged loudly on the cell door. He unlocked the door and said,

"It's your lucky day. Your bail's been paid. "

Daryl could only stare. Who would pay his bail? He had no family. No friends. He was a murderer. It didn't matter that he had done it in self defense. He had _killed_ someone.

Not just someone. His own father.

Rick sighed impatiently.

"Get going. And here's your old clothes." He muttered, tossing Daryl a crumpled ball of clothes.

Daryl cringed. The clothes still had dried blood on them. He pulled on the ripped jeans, and the torn t-shirt. He ran his hands over his face one last time, and tried to mentally prepare himself for what would come next.

*******

Paul could only stare when Daryl walked out. His hair was shorter than he had ever seen it. It was a mess, sticking up everywhere. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days, but that wasn't anything new. Daryl glared at Paul, and he was reminded of when they first met. He tried not to smile at the thought.

Daryl was covered in blood, and that was somewhat unnerving, but he was used to the sight.

He was suddenly overcome with relief, and before Paul knew what he was doing, he was reaching out towards Daryl.

Daryl recoiled, and Paul dropped his hand, trying to hide his disappointment and fear.

Daryl didn't remember.

Rick watched the two men closely, wondering what was going on between them.

"You two be careful now. " He drawled. "Stay inside. That disease sounds pretty nasty."

Paul nodded, and Daryl looked confused. Realizing that Daryl probably hadn't heard about the outbreak, he began to explain.

"In New York, there's some disease that turns people into mindless killing machines."

Daryl grunted, and raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Paul shrugged.

"I know. Sounds pretty crazy, right?" He laughed uncomfortably.

Daryl said nothing in response.

"Come on. I'll give you a lift home." Paul offered.

Daryl eyed him mistrustfully, but he eventually nodded. He lived 10 miles away, and didn't want to walk that far in the dark. Besides, he had some questions to ask this guy.

*****

The two men sat in Paul's truck for a minute, silent. Paul made no move to turn the car on. He was in no hurry, after all.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably.

"Why'd you bail me out?" He eventually rasped.

Paul let out a sigh.

"It's a long story, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway."

"I have time." Daryl growled.

Paul ran his hands through his hair.

"I bailed you out, because I know that if you murdered your own father, then something was really wrong."

Daryl glared.

"You don't know shit about me." He spat.

Paul gave him a long look.

"I know enough, Daryl. I know that he abused you, and that he was an alcoholic, not to mention an asshole. I know that you deserved better than him."

Daryl's eyes were filled with rage.

"How do you know about that?" He spat out.

Paul shook his head.

"I told you. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He said sadly.

Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"Try me."

Paul took a deep breath.

"I know because you told me yourself."

  
Daryl glared. He had never told anyone about what his father did to him. Not even his own brother. He frowned, it hurt to think about it. If he had killed his father sooner, then maybe Merle would still be alive. He shook his head, annoyed that he had allowed his thoughts to drift away from the problem at hand.

"I didn't tell no one about that." He growled.

Paul closed his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"You haven't told anyone _yet_." He muttered.

"What did you say?" Daryl asked.

Paul opened his eyes.

"Alright. I guess I need to you everything. But you'll think I'm crazy." He warned.

Daryl nodded, silently urging him to go on.

"There was an outbreak, like I told you. It turns people into what we call Walkers. They're dead, decaying people that can turn you into one of them with a single bite or scratch." He began.

Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"I know. It's hard to believe. And that's not even the crazy part. The crazy part, is that one day I woke up in the past. And... In the future, you and I are... well, we're friends."

He decided to lie about that part for now. Daryl wouldn't believe him as it was.

"We survived through the outbreak for 7 years, and we lived in a town called Alexandria. We just went to war with a crazy man trying to control us, and we won. We lived in Alexandria with that officer, Rick, and his girlfriend, as well as his son and daughter. You have a best friend named Carol. I came from a camp called Hilltop, and we met when I tried to steal your supplies. And from then on, we've always been together. I know you don't believe me. But you and I were... very close. You told me everything."

Paul stopped rambling for a minute. He didn't know what else to say. How do you convince someone you're from the future, and tell them everything that had happened in 7 years?

Daryl stared at him.

"You really are crazy." He snorted.

Paul laughed quietly.

"Maybe I am. And I wish this was some kind of dream. But I don't think it is."

Daryl shook his head.

"You said you know everything about me. What do you know?" He asked.

This guy had just spent $20,000 bailing him out of jail. The least he could do was humor him for a few minutes. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was a little curious.

Paul smiled a little.

"I know that you like to go hunting with a crossbow. You're a good tracker. You like being alone, and rarely talk. You don't often let people get close to you, but when they do, you're incredibly loyal. I know you had a brother named Merle, and your father abused both of you. I know your mother died from a drug overdose. I know you don't like to sleep with your feet under the covers. Your favorite color is green. You secretly love kids. You love being outside, it's where you feel most comfortable. You spent hours in the woods, trying to avoid your father."

Paul took a deep breath.

"Should I go on?" He asked.

Daryl shook his head, feeling angry.

"No." He growled.

Daryl frowned, thinking.

How the hell did this guy know those things? Sure, someone could probably find out some of those things from talking to the neighbors or his brother. But he had never seen this man before, and although he hated to admit it, he was feeling somewhat nervous.

Paul sighed, disappointed. But really, what did he expect? He didn't expect Daryl to believe him. He closed his eyes. He had lost the best thing to ever happen to him.

Paul started the car, and Daryl gave him directions back to his house. They drove in silence.

Daryl eyed the man next to him. He looked incredibly distraught. Obviously nothing he said had been true. Time Travel? Mindless killing machines? Please. The man should probably be locked up in a mental hospital. But he didn't say anything, because he appeared harmless, and he had paid for his bail.

They arrived at the old, run down house in minutes. Paul took a deep breath when he saw the house. It was worse than he thought. He hated to think that Daryl lived here, alone.

Daryl glared and got out of the truck.

"Thanks for the lift." He muttered, and slammed the door shut.

Paul watched him walk into the house. He sighed, and started the car. It was time to come up with another plan.

*****

Paul drove to a hotel that was about 15 minutes outside of Stockbridge. After checking in, he threw his backpack onto the floor, and collapsed on the bed.

Daryl didn't remember him. Just like that, 7 years were erased. He closed his eyes, not knowing what to do.

A deep voice began to whisper in his ear.

"Well, you said you would do anything..." it said.

Paul's eyes snapped open. He glanced wildly around the room. There was no one there.

"No, you won't be able to see me." The voice said, amusement clear in its tone, "Listen closely. You have 12 weeks to get Daryl to fall in love with you again. If you fail, you will die. Am I clear?"

  
Paul stared at the wall in front of him, feeling numb. This was it. He really was going insane.

"What happens if I succeed?" He asked.

The voice laughed.

"Then you get the chance to start over. To meet Daryl earlier in life. That's what you wanted, after all."

*****

Paul stood in the shower, staring numbly at the wall. Okay. He was officially insane. Or hallucinating? Either way, it wasn't pleasant. But even if all of this wasn't really real, and he was in fact delusional, he still should try to get Daryl back. Just in case it was all real. Because to be honest, dying in a few months didn't seem all that great.

"What have I done?" He groaned.

He had possessed everything he had needed, and wanted, before all of this.

The best times of his life had been with Daryl, and he had thrown it all away. And for what? A few extra years with him? He could have had a future with Daryl, but now that chance was gone.

What was he going to do? He had tweleve weeks. The outbreak had already started. There was no way twelve weeks was enough time. For gods sake, Daryl probably didn't even realize he was gay yet! How was he supposed to convince him to fall in love, just like that?

He shook his head, and stepped out of the shower. He would think of something tomorrow. For now, he needed to go to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are enjoying this fic, please check out my other fic, "Its not living without you"  
> Which I also wrote on this account!

Paul woke up early the next morning.

He sat up in bed, and stretched. His joints popped and he let out a small groan. Somehow, he had managed to forget about the crazy activities of the previous night, and had ended up falling asleep.

He warily got up and opened the blinds. The sight that greeted him made him shudder. People were running, screaming, crying, as the dead bit into their flesh. Had the disease really spread so quickly? How had he slept through the noise?

He should be used to the sight by now though, shouldn't he? The sight of people dying, that is. After all, he had spent almost eight years in this messed up world. But really, how do you ever get used to seeing innocent people dying?

He sighed. Maybe instead of wasting his time with Daryl, he should have talked to a Psychologist.

He scoffed at the thought. And what would he have said?

"Hello. I am from the future, where zombies thrive. Also, there's a voice that's been talking to me."

Right. That would have gone over well.

He was ready to give up. Twelve weeks. In twelve weeks he'd be as good as dead. There was no way he'd be able to convince Daryl. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his long hair.

He still had to try. It was time to put his second plan in action.

******

Paul crept quietly behind Daryl, watching him in fascination. He had to decided to follow the older man, until he could come up with a better idea, at least.

Daryl was muttering to himself, and swinging his crossbow around. He was stomping through the woods, carrying a backpack.

Paul wondered where he was going. Now that Daryl had seen the walkers up close himself, he had left home, obviously on the run. But to where? Where did Daryl think would be safe?

There were radio stations broadcasting military safe zones, but Paul knew that was shit. Where there were large groups of people, the infection would only spread faster. He wondered if Daryl knew that, because he was not heading in the direction of a safe zone. In fact, he seemed pretty content just walking on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere.

An RV pulled up next to Daryl, stopping. Paul watched with curiosity. An older man stepped out of the RV.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Hello there! My name is Dale. Me and a few people are heading up towards the mountains. You want us to give you a ride?"

Daryl glared at the white haired man.

"Nah. I'm fine walkin." He grunted.

Dale shook his head.

"Now come on. It will be much quicker if we just give you a lift. I insist. "

Daryl sighed, clearly tired and annoyed.

"Fine..." he muttered, climbing into the RV.

Dale smiled a giant smile.

"Excellent!"

Paul groaned as he watched the RV start to drive away. How on Earth was he going to keep track of Daryl now?

He stumbled out of the woods so he could walk on the paved road. He was free to walk on the road now, since Daryl could no longer catch him.

He figured he had a long walk ahead of him. Not that he wasn't used to it, of course.

****

Dale glanced in his review mirror. He turned to the lady sitting next to him.

"Hey Carol, I see another man walking. Should we stop for him?" He asked.

Daryl glanced up when he heard the name Carol. It must just be a weird coincidence that the crazy man had said the same name a few hours earlier.

Carol glanced up, her bright blue eyes puffy. Her husband had just been bitten by... by.. one of those things.  
Sure, they had never gotten along very well, but she hadn't wanted him to DIE. And her daughter...poor, poor, Sophia. Bitten as well, leaving her all alone.

She looked at Dale and sighed.

"Whatever you think..." She responded quietly.

She never was one to voice her opinions out loud. She was turbulent and quiet, never spoke out of line.

Dale smiled a little, and began backing up the RV. He stopped in front of Paul, who looked very surprised.

"Need a lift, son?" Dale called.

Paul simply nodded and gratefully walked into the RV. At least he could be with Daryl now.

"What's your name?" Dale asked.

Daryl still hadn't noticed him yet.

"Paul. Paul Rovia. But my friends call me Jesus."

Dale snorted, and Daryl jerked his head up.

Paul Rovia... Jesus. It sounded.... familiar some how.

When he saw Paul, he glared. Not this weirdo. Please, anyone but this guy.

The only seat on the RV was next to Daryl. Paul sat down quietly, not saying anything.

He wanted more than anything to put his head on Daryl's shoulder, fall asleep, wake up, and find out it had all been a bad dream. But that wasn't going to happen, and he knew it. He ignored Daryl's glare, and tried to enjoy the ride.

******

Two days later, the small group had set up a camp in the mountains, and had stayed there with little conflict. A few new people had joined them, which was a great asset. The larger the group, the stronger you were, generally. A lady named Andrea, and her sister Amy had found them, as well as the police officer Rick, his wife Lori, their son Carl, and another police officer named Shane.

Again, Daryl brushed everything off, as a strange coincidence, convincing himself that he must be delusional.

A young man named Glenn, and his friend T-dog were also there. They all split the work around the camp, and everything was going decently well. There was only the occasional walker that came up into the mountains, and Paul always took care of them. He still didn't talk to Daryl, unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was torture.

******

Daryl had been watching Paul for a few days now. Who even calls themselves Jesus? Self centered prick. He much preferred the name Paul.

There was something odd about the young man. He didn't seem crazy at all, not like Daryl had originally thought. And he seemed to do quite well taking care of himself and others. Daryl had watched him effortlessly kill stray walkers around the camp. It was very strange. He never seemed scared, or nervous, or anything. Everyone else at the camp was doing okay, but it was obvious they were all nervous wreaks, though most hid it pretty well.

For some reason, it made him annoyed that this guy hadn't tried to talk to him at all yet. Was he just going to pretend like he didn't exist, like nothing ever happened?

He shook his head. Why should he care if this Jesus guy talked to him or not? He should be relieved. But something about him seemed so familiar, so... comforting, he couldn't resist staying somewhat close to the other man.  
He sat next to him every night by the fire, something in him dying to be closer. He would always get angry and walk away whenever this feeling happened. There was nothing special about Jesus. He was just.. feeling weird, that was all. Who wouldn't feel weird, there was an apocalypse happening. He was bound to have odd feelings.

******

That night, Daryl repeated these thoughts to himself as he sat next to Paul at the fire. He could swear the man next to him would scoot closer whenever he looked away.

Dale interrupted his thoughts.

"The deer is good Daryl. Thanks for going hunting."

Daryl simply grunted in response. Dale didn't seem to mind though, as he continued grinning happily, humming an off tune country song.

Daryl flinched when he looked over, as he found himself suddenly staring into a pair of bright blue eyes. Who even had eyes that big and blue? Stupid Jesus prick. He quickly looked away, and he heard a sigh.

After eating, Daryl began to feel somewhat drowsy, and he felt himself slowly drifting off. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his head was pressed against something soft, and he sighed in contentment.

****

Jesus looked down in surprise as Daryl slumped over into his lap. His head was resting against his thigh, and he sighed. Everyone had gotten up to go to bed, by now, and he and Daryl were the only ones remaining at the fire. Daryl's soft snores relaxed him, and he absentmindedly stroked his hair away from his face. Paul allowed a small smile to cross his lips before he frowned again.

It had been one week. Had he made any progress? Well, Daryl WAS asleep in his lap.... and he had been giving him a lot of weird looks lately.

But Paul still wasn't sure. Eleven weeks, he thought. Eleven weeks.

He carefully scooted away from Daryl, trying not to wake him. He knew if Daryl woke up on top of him, all hell would break lose. But he couldn't bear to go back to his own tent. Not now.

He sighed, and shifted a few inches away from Daryl. He leaned against a log and closed his eyes, drifting asleep in a matter of seconds.

*******

Paul woke up hearing a muffled whimper. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, feeling groggy. He frowned when he realized the sounds were coming from Daryl.

"Merle..." Daryl whispered.

Paul sighed, debating what to do. He knew Daryl often had terrible nightmares, and he hated leaving him like this.

He reached out his hand hesitantly. He wasn't sure how Daryl would react to being woken up by him.

He placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"Daryl." He whispered.

Daryl flinched away from his touch.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, beginning to toss in his sleep.

"Daryl!" Paul said more sharply. "Wake up!"

  
Daryl's blue eyes slowly blinked open. He frowned, looking confused.

"You were having a nightmare..." Paul whispered.

Daryl pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Yeah. Um, thanks." He mumbled awkwardly, somewhat embarrassed.

Paul nodded and went to move away, but Daryl stopped him and said,

"Do you have them too? The nightmares, I mean."

Paul blinked, surprised that Daryl was willingly engaging him in a conversation.

"Every night." He replied.

Daryl looked down at his hands. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, took a drag, and closed his eyes.

Paul didn't think he could fall asleep again with Daryl sitting next to him. His heart was skipping, and his breaths came out irregularly. Something about this made him feel like he was falling in love with Daryl all over again. He fought the urge to groan in frustration.

"God, I need a drink." He muttered quietly.

Daryl snorted in amusement.

"Don't we all."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Paul felt oddly comfortable and on edge at the same time. Comfortable because he had done this with Daryl hundreds of times, just sitting in silence. On the other hand, he felt on edge because this wasn't really Daryl. Or it was, but it was from Daryl seven years ago.

Daryl eventually broke the silence.

"You like Huntin?" He asked.

Paul blinked at him. He was surprised Daryl was talking to him at all. He fought the urge to say "Not really. But I like it when I go with you."

Instead, he said, "It's okay, I guess."

"Hmph." Daryl grunted, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

Paul fought the urge to smile. That was his Daryl Dixon, a man of many words.

"The nightmares..." Paul began cautiously, "Do you have them often?"

Daryl looked at him for a long time, before saying,

"Every night."

An echo to Paul's words.

"I'm sorry." Paul murmured.

Daryl shrugged.

"I think we all have them now. But speaking of dreams.... I should call it quits. Night Paul."

"Goodnight, Daryl."

Paul ignored the flutter in his chest when Daryl called him Paul instead of "Rovia" Like he used to do when they first met. He closed his eyes, feeling content.

******

When Paul awoke the next morning, Daryl was gone. He tried not to feel disappointed. It was drizzling and cold out, matching his current mood. He stood up, feeling incredibly stiff and sore. Damn, he forgot how much sleeping on the ground sucked. He wandered around in a daze, doing his part in helping around the camp.

He sat next to Carol and started helping her wash the clothes. He couldn't believe that the frail, fragile women next to him was really Carol. She talked to him quietly, telling him about her husband and daughter. He had never known that she'd had a daughter. Carol never really seemed like the nurturing mother type. But he could see it now, she appeared to be a broken housewife.

"Oh Carol..." He thought. "What have I done?"

*****

Daryl lifted his crossbow silently as he spotted a deer.

Paul watched him from afar, unable to help himself. Hell, if he was going to die in eleven weeks, he might as well enjoy the view.

Daryl held his breath and prepared to let an arrow loose. He was concentrating so hard, he didn't notice the walker that staggered up behind him. Fortunately, the walker stepped on a branch, and the bark snapped underneath it's weight. The noise alerted Daryl to the walker's presence, and he spun around in surprise, while the deer bolted away.

Paul was on his feet in a matter of seconds, acting on instinct. Daryl started backing away from the walker, his eyes wide. Paul had never seen him like this. So... scared. No, maybe scared wasn't the right word. He looked... uncomfortable, maybe? It was odd, but he didn't have much time to think about it. His heart hammered painfully against his chest, and he stuck his knife in the walkers head. Blood spattered against his shirt and he swore. He had JUST washed that.

Daryl stared at him, eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Daryl glanced away, ashamed.

"Yeah. Thanks." His voice cracked a little at the end of the sentence, and he looked kind of embarrassed.

"Uh oh." Paul thought. Embarrassed Daryl was rarely ever a good thing. He was always so... defensive when it happened.

"Are you nervous?" Paul blurted.

Daryl's head jerked up.

"What?"

"About.. um, killing them, I mean." He stuttered.

Daryl glared at him.

God lord, if looks could kill.

"I mean, it's okay. To be nervous. I was too. Terrified."

Paul tried to make the situation better, but Daryl continued glaring at him.

"Yeah. Um. Okay. I'll leave you to your hunting now."

Paul cringed, hating how awkward he sounded.

He started to walk away.

"Thanks for that. Back there." Daryl mumbled, very quietly, so Paul could barely hear him.

Paul stopped in his tracks, a small smile appearing on his face.

"You're welcome, Daryl."


	3. Chapter 3

It was raining non stop. Everyone was constantly wet, no one slept well, and as a result, everyone was very grumpy. Well, Daryl seemed about as grumpy as usual. After all, he was used to the outdoors.

Paul, on the other hand, was completely miserable. He couldn't stand the constant drizzle, along with the stress of trying to talk to Daryl. He was beginning to give up, everything seemed like a lost cause. He had made absolutely no progress the past few days.

Sure, Daryl talked to him occasionally. But it just wasn't enough.

Nearly everyone had left camp to do the daily chores, and only a few people remained at the campground.

Paul was one of the few who decided to stay, and he sat in his tent, staring at the thin, plastic floor. He silently listened to the raindrops pelt against the roof and sides of his tent while he thought about everything. A scream suddenly jolted him out of his dreary daze, and his head snapped up. Had that been Carol?

"Oh man! I thought I made it PERFECTLY clear that you aren't going to resist me!" A voice called.

Paul stuck his head out of the tent, wondering what all the yelling was about. The voice sounded familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it....

He froze at the sight that greeted him. Even though the rain poured down and obscured his vision, he could clearly make out the figure in front of him.

But the figure almost looked like...

No. No, no, no. That wasn't possible. There was no way _he_ was here. It was only a week into the outbreak!

But there he was, clear as day.

Negan.

Paul felt the blood drain from his face. This couldn't be happening. They had already beat Negan. He shouldn't exist in this world. Not here. Not now.

Paul tried in vain to convince himself that he was just hallucinating, that the sight in front of him wasn't real. He blinked several times, trying to erase the horrid sight in front of him. He tried, and he tried, and he tried again. All to no avail.

The only comforting thing about the situation was that Negan didn't appear to have his deadly baseball bat.

It was a small comfort, but Paul would take what he could get.

Negan stood in the middle of the camp, grinning broadly and clutching Carol by the arm. He ran a bloody hand through her hair, and she shuddered.

"Now, come with me, will you? I can always use another pretty wife like you." He murmured.

Carol was shaking violently, tears streaking down her face.

"Like hell you're taking her." A voice rasped.

Paul stiffened. Fuck. He thought that Daryl had gone out with the others. He silently pleaded for Negan to ignore Daryl.

Of course, Negan did not.

Negan smiled widely, but he obviously found no humor in the statement.

"Well. I guess you'll just have to come with me too, then!"

Paul took that moment to step out of his tent.

"No." He begged. "Take me instead."

He knew what Negan was capable of. He didn't think that he could fight the other man on his own, so here he was, reduced to begging. He couldn't bear to see Daryl taken away again. He couldn't lose him. Not now. He couldn't see him tortured again.

He heard Daryl let out a low growl behind him.

Negan raised an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.

"I'll take all three of you." Negan announced, his grin growing wider.

He smile was inhuman. His eyes sparked and danced in a way that made Paul shudder. How could someone be so evil already?

"You ain't takin any of us." Daryl spat.

"I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter, _sunshine_."

Paul closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried not to panic.

The others had gone out. Some hunting, some looking for supplies, and some washing clothes at the river. It was just the three of them at the camp at the moment, apparently. So maybe the others would see that they were missing and go looking for them.

He had to hope. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Negan pulled a gun out of his waistband, his eyes wild and filled with sheer joy. Anyone could see that he was clearly unhinged.

He pointed the gun at Paul, then jerked his head at Daryl.

"Follow me," He commanded. "Or your friend here gets shot."

Annoyingly, Paul's first thought was,

 _What idiot puts a gun in his waistband? That's a great way to shoot yourself_.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He needed to think of a plan.

Daryl gave Paul a nervous glance. Paul could see the way his eyes widened slightly, the way he swallowed nervously.

Paul had to remind himself that Daryl wasn't used to dealing with unhinged people yet. This wasn't the same man that he had met at an abandoned gas station. This wasn't the same man that had gone through 7 years of hell.

Daryl shot one last nervous look at Paul, before giving a slight nod towards Negan.

Negan laughed with glee and their surrender.

"Excellent choice! Now I hope you all are well rested. We got a long walk ahead of us."

*****

Daryl and Paul walked through the woods blindly, Negan directing them where to go. The psychopathic man stood directly behind them, one hand aiming a gun at the back of Paul's head, the other clutching Carol tightly.

It felt like they had been walking for hours. Paul could see Daryl was beginning to limp, and he was growing more and more concerned. He had no plan to get them out of this, and Paul Rovia ALWAYS had a plan.

He wasn't sure how much longer they walked before they at a large, cement, building. The the sun had just down, and a cool breeze drifted across Paul's skin. He was still soaked from all the rain, and he felt as though he was chilled to the bone. 

Two guards came out of the building to greet them. They grinned when they saw Daryl, Paul, and Carol.

Negan glanced at the two guards and nodded.

"You know what to do." He muttered.

The guards grins became wicked.

"Yes we do..." One responded, laughing.

"And you're coming with me, sweetheart." Negan whispered to Carol.

Daryl lunged for Negan.

"YOU DON'T TOUCH HER!" He yelled, voice raspy.

One of the guards hauled Daryl backwards, and the other quickly aimed a gun at his chest. Jesus jumped between Daryl and the guard, spreading his arms out in surrender.

"Don't!" He pleaded. "We won't cause any more fights, I promise."

Daryl quit struggling against the guard behind him. Only seconds later, he heard a body fall limply to the ground. He whirled around to see Daryl sprawled against the wet and muddy ground, unmoving. Negan snorted in amusement, and Paul suppressed a shudder. How was everything going so wrong? How was Negan already in power, how had people already become so evil?

Before he could even process what was happening, a cloth was pushed against his mouth, and he recognized the sweet smell of chloroform before the world went black.

****

He woke up. Everything was fuzzy. His arms hurt. He thought he could hear Daryl screaming for him. The world went black again.

****

When he awoke the second time, everything was much clearer. He was chained to a wall with metal shackles, and his arms hung above his head. They were sore, and no doubt severely bruised.

He blinked slowly, his eyes trying to adjust to the dim light. He could make out a figure in front of him, but it was too dark to make out who it was.

After his eyes finally adjusted, he realized the figure was Daryl. He sighed in relief, though that was the last emotion he should have felt. Daryl was chained to the wall oposite of him. His arms hung limp, his head lifeless against his chest. His shirt was gone, and blood dripped from fresh cuts.

Paul fought panic. His heart hammered painfully against his chest, and he took deep, gasping breaths.

"Daryl!" He called.

Daryl let out a groan and lifted his head.

"You're awake. Thought you were dying." Daryl grumbled.

Paul felt a wave of relief crash over him, and his breathing slowly returned back to normal. Daryl was okay.

After the wave of relief passed, he had to fight to keep back the surge of anger he felt. How _dare they?_ They had beaten and tortured an _innocent man_.

He shook his head and took a deep breath. He needed to keep his emotions under control for the moment.

"What did they do to you?" Paul growled, trying to keep his voice somewhat calm.

Daryl looked at him, hair hanging over his eyes.

"They cut me. Kept asking me if I knew anythin about some place called Terminus. Told em I didn't know nothing. Didn't believe me I guess." He rasped.

Paul felt a flare of pure rage. Forget trying to stay calm. He would kill those bastards. Every last one.

"I'm going to get us out of here." He whispered to Daryl.

Daryl snorted.

"Yeah. Okay."

Jesus tried not to feel hurt by Daryl's words.

There had been a time that Daryl used to believe that they would get out of any situation. That they'd always be okay, as long as they were together.

"What did they want to know about Terminus?" Paul inquired, trying not to show his hurt.

"Wanna know where it is. They wanna go there or somethin." He responded.

Paul nodded, lost in thought. He didn't know what Negan wanted with Terminus, but he figured it wouldn't be anything good.

While he pondered things, he decided to try something. He might have a way to escape, if he tried hard enough.

He slowly stood up on his tiptoes, and the chains around his wrists relaxed. He felt in his hair carefully, looking for one of the bobby pins he had. He silently thanked his past self for putting a few in his hair earlier that morning. If there was one thing he had learned from the apocalypse, it was that you never knew when you'd need something as simple as a bobby pin.

He pulled the pin from his hair, and worked at the locks. It was proving difficult, and he fought frustration.

*****

Daryl watched him, with something like amusement. Really? This guy thought he was going to break them out with a bobby pin? He rolled his eyes. However, after a few minutes, Daryl had to stop himself from grunting in surprise. One of the locks had popped off of Paul's wrist. Paul looked at him, a smug look on his face, and Daryl let out a snort. Show off.

The second lock popped off much sooner than the first, now that Paul had his hands mostly free. He moved over to Daryl quickly. They could barely see each other, the light was so dim, and Daryl wondered how Paul ever managed to unlock the locks. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Paul coughed and glanced away.

Paul examined Daryl's cuts with concern for a few moments, but then turned to work at the locks anyway. Daryl was free in a matter of seconds.

Really, where had he learned to do that anyway?

Paul took of his shirt, and pressed it against Daryl's chest. It immediately started absorbing blood.

"What are you doing?" Daryl hissed.

"Applying pressure. Helping you. You're hurt." Paul replied, a light eyebrow arched.

He seemed to be saying, "Duh" with his facial features, and Daryl glared.

"Don't need your help." He spat.

Paul shrugged.

"I know, Daryl."

There was silence. Neither one of them moved.

"Now what?" Daryl finally asked.

"Now, we wait."

******

"What exactly is the plan here?" Daryl asked, pacing the room nervously.

Paul rolled his eyes from his position on the cement floor.

"I told you. We wait for that guard to come back. We take his gun, knock him out, and break out of here." He explained patiently.

"What about Carol?" Daryl asked.

Paul smiled a little. There was his old Daryl.

"I don't know. I want to save her as much as you do, believe me. But I don't know if we can get to her at the moment. It might be a suicide mission."

Daryl let out a low growl and was about to argue, when he was interrupted by the cell door opening.

Jesus quickly shushed him, rushing to his feet.  
They crouched in the shadows together, silent, neither daring to breathe too loudly. They waited as the guard stomped down the stairs and into the dreary dungeon.

Jesus held up a hand, and silently mouthed,

"One....Two...Three!"

On three, he and Daryl pounced on the man, Paul pinning him to the stone floor, Daryl covering his mouth with his hand.

The man was disarmed In a matter of seconds.

Paul aimed the handgun at the guard's head.

"I'm going to remove my hand. If you make a sound, a bullet is going through your head. Nod if you understand."

The man nodded, his eyes wide with fear.

Daryl slowly moved his hand away.

"I need you to answer some questions for me." Jesus said firmly.

The man nodded again.

"Okay. Just... please. Don't hurt me. I have a family." He begged.

Daryl scoffed, but Jesus frowned, somewhat sympathetic.

"You'll be fine, if you cooperate. Now, where did Negan go?"

"He went to a place called Terminus. I guess he tortured another prisoner until he told him where it was. It's supposed to be some government run safe house."

Paul chewed on his lip, thinking. If Terminus was what Daryl had told him it was, then it was anything BUT a government safe zone.

"The lady that was with us. Carol. Do you know where she is?" Daryl asked.

"Negan took her with him. That's all I know." The guard responded.

Paul nodded.

"Can you help us get out of here?" He asked.

The man laughed quietly.

"Well yeah, that's easy. Pretty much everyone went to Terminus. There's only a handful of us that stayed behind."

Jesus eyed him thoughtfully.

"What's your name?" He finally asked.

"Andrew." He replied.

"I'm Jesus. This is my friend Daryl."

Daryl glared at him, but Paul leaned over and whispered,

"It's okay. I think we can trust him."

Daryl snorted.

"It's your funeral."

*****

Andrew led them out of the cell, and both Paul and Daryl blinked as sunlight hit their eyes. Jesus held the gun out in front of him steadily, trying to get used to the bright light.

"Lead the way." He muttered to Andrew.

They made it out of the compound with no trouble, and Andrew gave them vague directions to Terminus. Before they left, he pulled Paul aside.

"I'm going to have to alert Negan you've escaped in an hour. If I don't, he'll kill me."

"I understand." Jesus replied solemnly.  "Thank you for helping us."

Andrew gave a curt nod and left, vanishing back into the compound.

"What'd he say to you?" Daryl asked.

"He said that we have an hour until he alerts Negan we're missing."

Daryl grunted in response, appearing unimpressed.

Paul wasn't expecting much of a response anyway, so he started walking in the direction Andrew had pointed out to them.

There was something comforting about being in the woods again. It was the place where both he and Daryl felt most natural, and after being held in a dungeon for several hours, any other setting seemed glorious in comparison.

Daryl stomped loudly through the woods, crushing anything in his path. Jesus knew that meant he was in a bad mood.

He reached out and gently touched Daryl's shoulder, trying to comfort the other man.

"Hey." He said quietly. "We're gonna find her."

Daryl glared, shrugging his hand off.

"I know we'll find her." He spat. "But dead, or alive?"

And to that, Paul had no answer.

******

They approached a building with a fence around the perimeter a few hours later. It was dusk already, and Jesus found it hard to believe he had been unconscious for nearly 24 hours.

"What's the plan?" He asked, and Daryl stared at him blankly.

"Come on, I came up with the last plan." He joked.

Daryl didn't smile. He simply eyed the building in front of them, a weary expression on his face.

"There's no guards, and the gates are open. It seems suspicious."

Jesus just shrugged.

"I guess. Let's go check it out."

Daryl nodded, and followed Jesus through the front gates.

******

Everything was dead silent when they entered the front gates. The two men walked quietly through the seemingly abandoned building, a feeling of nervousness surrounding them. The place was far too quiet. Far too _normal_.

"Is this the right place?" Paul asked, glancing around nervously.

He couldn't help but feel a little paranoid, especially after Daryl's prior comment about everything seeming suspicious.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"There was a giant cardboard sign that said 'Terminus'."

"Fair point." Jesus replied.

They continued walking for a few minutes, when Daryl abruptly stopped, nearly causing Paul to run into him.

"Do you smell that?" He asked, his posture stiffening.

Jesus paused, sniffing the air.

"Ugh. God. Yes." He replied, the stench finally reaching his nose.

He groaned loudly, plugging his nose.

"Ew. What _is_ that?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I don't know, but we're about to find out."

They followed the smell, filled with anticipation and dread. They didn't have to wonder what the smell was for long. Two minutes later, they stopped dead in their tracks at the sight that greeted them.

Bodies and body parts hung from the ceiling. Blood covered the floor. Rotting corpses laid propped against an organ splattered wall.

Jesus gagged.

Yep. This sounded more like what Daryl had described it like.

"She's dead." Daryl said, flatly.

"Do you see her body?" Paul asked, covering his mouth as another wave of nausea crashed through him.

"No. But I see Negan's. And she was with him."

Paul raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was Negan really dead? Already? Well, that had been fairly easy, not that he was complaining.

They spent the next twenty minutes looking at the bodies, trying to identify one as Carol's. Paul had thrown up twice, and Daryl was looking kind of green.

"Daryl... I think we should go. I don't know where everyone went, but they could come back any minute. And I don't think we're going to find her..."

"Fine. Let's go back to the camp." Daryl muttered.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It ain't your fault."

They walked out of the building, into the dark, into the woods, and in silence.

 _A week and a half_ , Jesus thought.

Only ten and a half left.


	4. Chapter 4

"Look, there's no way I'm getting on that thing with you." Daryl argued.

Paul had found a motorcycle, with plenty of gasoline _and_ the keys still in it, by some grace of god. But here they were, fighting because Daryl didn't want to ride a motorcycle with him.

"Daryl, come on. We aren't going to find anything better than this. We need to get back to the others." He said, exasperated. "Are you really that scared to sit close to me for a few hours?"

"We can walk." Daryl snapped.

"It's dark! We'll have to stop for the night if we walk!" Jesus protested.

"Then let's stop." Daryl said, refusing to budge on the issue.

He turned and started walking away, making it clear that there was no room for argument.

Paul kicked a rock, annoyed, before sulking after him.

******

It wasn't long before they stumbled upon an abandoned hunting cabin.

Paul shook his head in amazement. He couldn't believe their luck today. There were only two walkers in the cabin, and it had contained two guns and a few cans of food.

He was a little suspicious of their good luck, but he couldn't find any reason for them to leave.

Daryl went off to explore the small cabin, unsurprisingly restless. He came back a few moments later, a smirk on his face. He held up two bottles of whisky, and handed one over to Jesus. It was the first time Jesus had seen him smile all week, and it make his heart pound just a little faster than usual.

"It's our lucky day." Daryl announced, though it came off as somewhat sarcastic.

Or maybe everything Daryl said just came off as sarcastic.

"Yeah, our lucky day. Besides being kidnapped, tortured, and having to sort through body parts and corpses."

Daryl's smirk faded, and Paul knew he was thinking about Carol. He was surprised that Daryl already cared for Carol so much. Maybe he just cared for everyone, and just didn't like to show it.

Paul frowned and patted the seat on the couch next to him. Daryl stood awkwardly next to the couch, swaying on his feet. Paul suddenly realized how much blood he had lost today, and stiffened with concern.

"Sit down." He commanded. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine." Daryl grumbled, though he sat down next to Jesus anyway.

Jesus raised his bottle of whisky and shot him a small smile.

"To lucky days?" He asked.

Daryl nodded slightly, and raised his own bottle, before taking a sip of the burning alcohol.

Jesus mirrored his movements, and Daryl laughed a little when he made a face after drinking the whisky.

"Too strong for you?" He teased.

Paul shrugged.

"Actually, yes. I'm not even ashamed to admit it, I'm a wine person." He took another sip, and it tasted a little better than the first.

Daryl shook his head.

"You gotta take what you can get now." He muttered.

Jesus laughed.

"Oh, believe me, I'll take it. I needed this."

Daryl nodded and took another sip.

"Yeah. Me too."

*****

It was an hour later, and It was late. Or was it early? Jesus wasn't really sure. Half the bottle of whisky was gone. Both men where more drunk than either of them would have liked to admit.

"Okay." Jesus slurred, then frowned, trying to get his thoughts together. "Aliens come to earth. They want to abduct someone. Do you give them Tom Hanks or Robin Williams?"

Daryl snorted.

"There's zombies roamin around, and you're tryin to bring aliens here too? And who the hell is Robin Williams?"

Jesus felt his jaw drop open.

"We can't talk anymore. We can't be friends. Ya know, Robin Williams? Mrs. Doubtfire, Patch Adams, Hook, Aladdin? Any of those ringing a bell?"

Daryl shook his head.

It felt odd, hearing Paul refer to them as friends. He hadn't necessarily considered them anything more than two people trying to help each other survive.

They didn't really feel like friends, their relationship felt like something different, though he didn't know how to describe it. He supposed that Paul was his friend, though, because what else would he call them?

Yeah, maybe Paul was crazy, but he kind of enjoyed his company, sometimes. They felt like more than casual acquaintances at this point, but maybe that was because when you're kidnapped together, you just develop a special kind of bond.

"You had a deprived childhood." Jesus declared, not noticing that Daryl was lost in thought.

"You have no idea." Daryl muttered.

Before Jesus could ask anything else about his childhood, he changed the subject, not wanting to talk about it. After all, he had killed his own father. What did that say about his family and childhood?

"You look like hell." Was all he could think to say.

There was a moment of silence, and then Jesus started laughing. Not a chuckle, but a full on laugh, doubled over, tears streaming down his face.

Daryl stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What?" He asked, confused.

In between gasps for air, Jesus said,

"I haven't showered for a week. I have your blood all over my shirt. I haven't brushed my hair in god knows how long, we were just kidnapped, and you expect me to look... good?"

He erupted into another fit of giggles, and a smile tugged at Daryl's lips.

It wasn't funny. Not even in the slightest. But Paul's laugh was contagious, and he had to try not to snort in amusement.

Paul stopped laughing abruptly, then frowned, a serious expression on his face.

"My feet are cold." He complained, and pressed his bare feet against Daryl's exposed leg.

Daryl jumped.

"Get your feet off me." He growled, shifting his leg away.

Jesus pressed his foot against Daryl's leg again.

"But you're so warm..." He argued, his eyes crossing slightly.

"PUT YOUR COLD FEET ON ME ONE MORE TIME AND I SWEAR-"

Paul pulled his feet away, and tried to stand up. He nearly fell over, back on to the couch and into Daryl.

"I'm hungry." He announced.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Get some food, but then you're going to bed. It's late, and we need to get back to the camp as soon as we can tomorrow."

Jesus opened a kitchen cabinet and jumped up and down in excitement.

"POPCORN!" He yelled.

"You're so drunk...." Daryl muttered.

He watched in amusement as Paul began shoving popcorn in his mouth. He would usually be annoyed by this kind of behavior, but he was too tired to care, and the whisky hadn't hurt either.

Paul stopped after a minute, and turned to Daryl, holding out the bag.

"You want some?" He asked.

Daryl shrugged. Why not?

He grabbed the popcorn bag, and Paul stepped closer to him. He reached out, and wiped his hands on Daryl's shirt.

Daryl glared at him in disgust.

"Did you just wipe your popcorn fingers on me?"

Jesus shrugged. A few seconds later, he held a hand to his mouth, and began to make retching noises.

"Oh god, I don't feel so good."

He ran to the bathroom, and began throwing up into the toilet.

Daryl groaned, and reluctantly followed Jesus into the bathroom. He reached out, unsure of himself, then pulled the hair away from Paul's face. It didn't really matter what he did. Neither of them would remember this in the morning anyway. Well, probably.

"Idiot." He muttered.

Paul eventually stopped throwing up, and collapsed next to the toilet.

"Thanks." He muttered weakly.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Next time you get so drunk you throw up, I'm not gonna hold your head out of the toilet. I'm gonna let you drown."

Paul laughed quietly.

"That's what you say every time." He mumbled.

Daryl paused, confused. Whatever, Paul was obviously drunk out of his mind and wasn't aware of what he was saying.

He nudged Jesus with his foot.

"Get up. You need to get to bed."

Jesus groaned.

"No. Can't move. Good here." He mumbled.

Daryl closed his eyes, and let out a deep breath.

He couldn't just let the idiot sleep against the toilet on the bathroom floor, even though he wanted to just leave him there.

He shook his head, before starting to drag Paul out of the bathroom.

He struggled for a few minutes before giving up. This wasn't working. Paul was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Screw it." He muttered.

He picked the smaller man up, and staggered a little under his weight. Jesus let out a small groan as Daryl slung him over his shoulder.

"Shut up." Daryl growled.

He carried him to the only bed in the cabin, a task that took a few minutes, then laid him down roughly.

After catching his breath for a few minutes, he staggered to the living room, then collapsed on the couch.

He closed his eyes and sighed, hoping that tomorrow would have a better outcome than today had.

*****

Paul woke up slowly, his head pounding. He groaned, then pushed himself out of bed. Light was streaming in through the bedroom windows, and his head seemed to scream in protest. He felt sore.

Forcing his body to move, he stumbled into the living room, half asleep.

"God." He groaned. "What _happened_ last night?"

Daryl sat on the couch, eating a can of food and appearing unconcerned. Jesus couldn't see what he was eating, though at the moment he really didn't care.

"Let's see...." Daryl muttered, shoving another bite of food into his mouth. "You got drunk, ate a stale bag of popcorn, threw up, then passed out."

Jesus rubbed at his temples and groaned.

"I apologize for anything I may have said or done while I was drunk." He murmured, beginning to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.

Daryl grunted, and Paul took it as forgiveness.

After a few moments of rummaging around the kitchen cabinets, he turned to face Daryl.

"Aren't you hungover?" He asked curiously, glancing down at the half-empty bottles of whisky.

Daryl snorted.

"My head hurts like hell. I just don't complain as much as you."

Jesus threw a bottle of water that was on the counter at him. To his annoyance, Daryl caught it.

"Ya ready to go?" Daryl asked.

Though he hadn't had the chance to find anything to eat, he shrugged and said,

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

And with that, they were off.

****

They finally arrived back to the camp around noon. It was the same as they had left it, much to their relief. Everyone was still there, still alive, still okay.

It took them a long time for them to explain the situation to Rick, but once they were finished, Rick decided that he believed them. After all, you can't make that shit up.

The group argued about what to do about Carol, but with no real lead on where she was, they decided it was pointless to search for her.

She had most likely either been killed at Terminus, or she was a walker by now.  Either way, it was a waste of time to look for her.

Jesus could tell that it hit Daryl hard. He knew that Daryl would be blaming himself for her absence, and there was nothing he could say or do to make him feel better.

*****

The days passed slowly. It continued to rain, much to everyone's annoyance. More and more walkers were making their way up the mountains, and Andrea and Amy had been bitten.

After burying their bodies, Rick made it mandatory for everyone to travel in groups of two or three. He hoped it would help them avoid any more unnecessary deaths.

Jesus and Daryl didn't talk much, but they always stayed close to each other, and always looked out for one another. It kind of reminded Jesus of when they had first started becoming friends.

He smiled a little at the thought.

Daryl was becoming more comfortable around him, which brightened his mood dramatically. Jesus figured if Daryl trusted him to watch his back, then that meant that they were making some progress.

After a few days of fighting giant hoards of walkers, the group decided that the mountains were no longer their best option, and decided to go out and look for a better place to set up camp. With all the walkers swarming them, they barely had any time to sleep or eat, and it was exhausting to keep up with.

The group set out early one morning in the RV, not knowing where they were going, or what they would find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for the kudos! Please leave a comment if you like it! This is my first time Travel fic and I would really appreciate some feedback. Thank you! :)


	5. Chapter 5

It was starting to get cold, and Rick was becoming more and more worried that they would not find a place to stay before winter hit.

Paul found it interesting to watch Rick, and how he was starting to take charge. It was kind of amazing to watch him start to become the leader he knew.

Rick and Glenn had grown close over the past few days, and Shane was obviously jealous. The two would argue constantly, fighting over decisions that needed to be made for the group. Dale was often trying to be the peacemaker, but he annoyed people more than he helped. Lori acted strange around both Rick and Shane, and mostly talked to Carl.

It was odd for Paul to observe Carl and his Mother. Carl was still a boy, still so scared and inexperienced. He couldn't believe that the young man who had gone against Neagan was now this small, scared little boy.

Jesus watched as Rick and Shane argued about which direction they should head, and sighed wearily. He had heard a few stories about Shane, and none of them were good. He secretly despised the man, and he thought Daryl did too.

Daryl and T-dog had also become closer the past few days, but because Daryl was Daryl, they rarely talked.

Paul could see that Daryl enjoyed the quiet company of the other man, though.

The group eventually decided to settle down for the night at an abandoned farm, after much debate. Paul offered to take watch, while the rest of the group got some rest. Daryl volunteered to join him, surprisingly. They sat on top of the RV, watching the empty farm fields in silence.

******

Paul was just beginning to dose off, when Daryl nudged him.

"Ya see that?" He asked.

Paul jumped guilty. Daryl gave him an amused glance as he rubbed his tired eyes and squinted. He could vaguely make out a few figures stumbling slowly towards them.

He sighed tiredly. There were only three walkers that he could see. Not enough to be concerned, just enough to be annoyed. He pulled out his knife and climbed down the RV latter, watching as Daryl followed closely with his crossbow.

As they got closer, Daryl shot two of the walkers in the head, while Jesus took care of the third one.

After the walkers were taken care of, the two men stood there for a few moments in silence, looking down at the rotting corpses.

"I don't know when it became so easy to kill people." Paul whispered, finally breaking the silence.

Daryl said nothing.

"Sometimes, I feel like I don't even have a soul anymore. Because I think only a soulless monster could kill someone so easily." Paul continued quietly.

Daryl looked at him for a long moment.

"We all do what we have to do." He finally said.

They walked back to RV in silence.

Jesus watched Daryl out of the corner of his eye on their walk back. He paused for a moment to admire the tattoo on Daryl's bicep.

"What's that?" He asked, reaching out to touch the tattoo.

Daryl frowned, but allowed Jesus to trace it.

"Just a stupid mistake." He muttered.

Jesus continued to trace the symbol.

"What does it mean, though?" He asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"No clue."

Jesus laughed quietly, and withdrew his hand.

Daryl almost missed the contact. Almost.

He didn't like talking about the tattoo. It was just a reminder of his past, just like his scars. But he could never bring himself to get it removed, because even if they were bad, the memories were far too important to him.

They sat in silence for the rest of the night until Dale relieved them of their duties.

****

It was the next morning, and it turned out that the farm wasn't as abandoned as they had originally thought.

An old man named Hershel and his two daughters, Maggie and Beth, lived there. Hershel was not very happy to find strangers on his land, but he eventually decided to let them stay for a few nights.

Glenn had become smitten with Maggie almost immediately, and Jesus thought it was quite adorable. He smiled sadly, thinking of how close they had been before Glenn’s death.

Rick glanced at Paul, as if sensing his sadness.

"You doin’ okay?" He drawled.

Paul gave him a slight nod. He was doing as well as to be expected.

*****

The group was starting to settle in nicely, and they helped Hershel and his family with the daily chores.

Jesus really enjoyed talking to Beth in particular. He had heard so many stories about the girl, and she was even more lovely than he had imagined her. They would often sing with each other as they did the chores, and Jesus found he enjoyed his time with her very much. He could certainly see why Daryl had grown so attached to her.

Maggie and Glenn had gone out on a run together, and Glenn came back looking even more smitten. Jesus was glad that they had some alone time together.

He smiled, and thought,

_It didn't take very long for them to start falling in love._

Carl loved the open spaces of the farm. He ran around most of the time, exploring every inch of the land. Lori had been sick lately, so she was glad that Carl was able to entertain himself. She had been throwing up, so she stayed in bed most of the day.

Jesus had to wonder if she was pregnant. He knew that she had been pregnant at the farm before, but he didn’t know if things would play out the same way as last time. He watched as she talked to Shane in a hushed voice, and his suspicions grew. Well, either way, it wasn't really any of his business.

Shane gestured towards Rick, and Paul caught the words, "Have to tell him."

Lori looked distraught, and Rick walked over, looking concerned. They began to talk quietly, and Shane walked a few paces away.

Jesus heard Lori pleading,

“Please, I'm sorry. You have to understand, I thought you were dead!"

Rick didn't say anything. His eyes were empty, and his face was expressionless. He stared at her for minute, before walking away.

Lori started to follow him, but Shane grabbed her arm.

"Give him time." He said quietly.

Jesus watched the drama unfold before him with little interest. Just as soon as Rick walked away, He could hear Maggie and Glenn begin to argue.

"No! I am NOT sleeping with you!" Maggie exclaimed loudly.

She took an egg and cracked it over Glenn's head. Glenn sputtered in disbelief as she walked away.

Jesus raised an eyebrow. Okay, so maybe they weren't already falling in love.

Dale started yelling at Glenn now, saying that he had been much too direct, and it was too soon to be thinking about that kind of thing.

Jesus sat down on the grass, watching everything in silence.

Daryl was also watching the scene, standing a few feet away from Jesus.

"Good lord. Am I the only zen one around here?" He muttered, and Jesus bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

****

Rick avoided Lori and Shane as best he could, and desperately tried to push his feelings away.

He shouldn't be mad. He knew he shouldn’t be mad. Lori had thought he was dead. She hadn't been cheating, not really.

Carl was picking up on the tense atmosphere, and he avoided everyone as well.

Rick sat down on the grass next to Jesus, looking exhausted and weary.

"We should check out the barn.” He suggested.   
“See if there's anything useful."

Jesus thought that they should probably ask Hershel first, but he decided to follow Rick anyway. They walked to the barn, and Rick swore when he saw the padlock.

Jesus smiled a little.

"Don't worry, I can take the lock off." He said.

He began working on the lock, face scrunched up in concentration. Rick watched as it popped off, and he mentally made a note to learn how to do that later. It was a useful skill to have nowadays.

Jesus swung the barn doors open and his eyes widened. He stumbled back a few feet, and he seemed to be frozen with shock.

"What are you looking-" Rick started to ask, but his sentence fell short when he saw what was inside the barn.

Dozens of walkers stared back at them, moaning and snapping.

"Shit!" Rick swore.

How could they not have heard them?

They started backing away from the barn, horrified. Then they were running, and then the world went to hell.

*****

Walkers were everywhere. Paul heard someone scream, but he didn't know who it was.

 _Why is everything moving so fast?_ He wondered.

The farm was overrun by the dead. Everyone was evacuating the farm, and once again, they had to find a new place to stay, had to find another way to survive.

Paul was running, not sure where he was going, when he suddenly tripped over a body. His head hit the ground hard, and he groaned in pain. He glanced down at the body underneath him, and choked on emotion when he saw it was Dale.

Maggie grabbed his arm, and began to drag him away from Dale. She shoved him in the back seat of a car, climbing in after him.

"Drive!" She yelled.

Paul couldn't see who the driver was, but he didn’t really care.

Everything was so blurry. His head hurt.

Where was everyone else? Rick? Daryl? Glenn?

The world faded to black.

******

The group met up once they were a few miles away from the farm. They had lost Dale and Shane in the chaos. Lori sobbed, knowing that the father of her unborn child was dead.

Jesus was finally awake, and feeling better, but still having no clue what had just happened.

Why were there so many walkers in the barn?

No one explained it to him, and he didn't ask.

******

When the group came across a prison, something in Paul's mind clicked.

He remembered Daryl telling him stories about the prison, about the farm, about everything before Alexandria.

Things felt like they were moving too fast, because they _were_. Everything was repeating itself, just in a different order, with different things happening, and with Paul there.

"This is what you wanted." A voice whispered.

And there was that damn voice again.

****

Rick made the decision to clear out a section of the prison and stay there. Paul was not surprised by his decision.

It took three days for them to clear out two sections of the prison, but everyone felt much safer behind the bars of the prison cells in the end.

Hershel and his two daughters had become apart of their group now, there was no question about it. Though they had originally been angry at Rick and Paul for opening the barn doors without permission, they eventually got over it.

“It happened, and we can’t change the past.” Hershel had said.

Paul snorted at the thought. The old man had no clue how wrong he was.

Now that things were settling down, Maggie and Glenn started spending a lot of time together. Beth joined them sometimes, though she spent more time with her father or Carl.

Lori and Rick fought constantly, not that Paul blamed them. Lori was pregnant with another man’s child, for God’s sake. That was bad enough on its own, but in this world, it was practically a death sentence.

Daryl spent most of his time pacing the prison, feeling caged. He went out hunting whenever he could, which wasn’t often. There was too much to be done around the prison.

Paul simply observed everyone, wondering what would happen next.

******

Michonne showed up a few days later. She had appeared outside the prison gates, and when Rick had finally spotted her, she had passed out from exhaustion.

Once she woke, she begged them to let her into their group.

At first, Rick hadn’t wanted to let her join them, but Daryl had convinced him to let her stay, claiming she would die without their help.

It was quite odd to watch Rick and Michonne interact. After all, Michonne was Rick’s future girlfriend, but he was still married to Lori.

Personally, Paul thought that Michonne and Rick made a much better couple than Rick with Lori. But of course, he kept these opinions to himself.

Everything seemed to go well enough the next few days. The group had finally seemed to have found a decent place to stay, and Glenn had found a fairly large supply of food while scavenging with Maggie.

Everyone was beginning to warm up to Michonne, as well. They found that she was quite funny and nice, once you got to know her.

Michonne went scavenging as well, and she brought back some alcohol, much to everyone's delight.

Daryl was beginning to forget about Carol, and he tried to enjoy the cigarettes Glenn had brought back for him.

Rick and Lori were getting along better, and as a result, Carl was happier.

Everything seemed to be going well, but as always, it didn't last long.

***

Lori had gone outside the gates of the prison, because she had wanted some fresh air. She desperately wanted to escape the walls around her. They protected her, but they also trapped her.

As she was walking, she did not hear the walker that come up behind her, and she hardly had time to register what was happening as it bit into her arm.

Screaming, she pried the walker off of her bicep. She stumbled back to the prison, where she knew Rick was. He watched in horror as blood gushed from her arm, and she fell to the ground at his feet.

"Help." She whispered, before falling unconscious.

Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she turned.

Rick screamed as he drove the knife through her skull, sobbing. It was morbid, to stab your own wife, but he wasn't about to let her become a monster. He had lost her, and a child. A child he had been willing to raise as his own, even though it wasn't his.

Paul watched the scene, knowing he should feel something, but he felt nothing.

*****

Rick had taken all the alcohol. He didn't intend to drink himself to death, just as close as possible to dying. Because he didn't want to _feel_ anymore, damnit. He was far too broken to care for his son, but thankfully, Jesus took it upon himself to comfort the boy.

No one dared to speak, no one dared to voice their concerns. But everyone was thinking the same thought.

What was going to happen next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat of a short chapter but I hope you like it!


	6. Chapter 6

"I found s'more supplies..." Maggie called softly to Carl.

Carl glanced up, dark circles under his eyes. He wasn't sleeping well lately, not that anyone really was.

Maggie tried not to shudder as Carl stared at her, his eyes dead.

"I thought we could sit outside tonight. Have a campfire?" She asked.

Carl nodded, expression dazed.

Maggie was unsure of how to approach the boy. After all, what do you say to someone who had just lost their mother? She wasn't sure. While Carl had lost his mother, he had also seemed to have lost his father. Maybe not physically, but mentally.

Rick stayed in his cell all day, mumbling to himself and refusing to talk to anyone else. Everyone wondered when, or if, he would pull himself together.

Maggie gently led Carl outside, where Michonne was starting a fire. She had told everyone of her plans earlier today, and everyone had agreed that they could all use some s'mores. Because adults or not, they had all been through hell, and sometimes you just needed to take a break.

The fire was started, and people began to roast their marshmallows.

Rick remained inside, not that anyone was really surprised.

Maggie tried to talk to Carl for awhile, but after a few minutes with no response, she gave up. Beth began to sing quietly, and everyone seemed to relax.

As Beth sang, Maggie's eyes were drawn towards the two men across the fire from her. Daryl and... Jesus? Or some weird name like that. She watched them interact, and wondered what their relationship was. Brothers? Close friends? She wasn't sure, and she didn't feel like asking.

****

"Aren't you going to eat a s'more?" Jesus asked Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, not quite meeting Paul's eyes. Though he'd never admit it, Lori's death was weighing heavily on him.

"I don't think I'd like em." He muttered.

"Wait, you've never had a s'more before?" Jesus questioned, his eyes growing wide.

"Nah." Daryl grunted, not really in the mood to have a conversation.

He was beginning to regret ever coming to this stupid campfire in the first place.

Jesus shook his head in silent disbelief.

"We're fixing that. Right now."

******

Maggie had to hide a snort of laughter as she watched Jesus shove a S'more into Daryl's mouth, after much debate.

She froze when she heard quiet laughter next to her. She slowly pivoted and was shocked to see Carl smiling, for the first time in days. She let a small smile creep on her face as she watched Daryl glare at them, chocolate all over his face.

*****

People slowly began to meander back inside the prison after a few hours. It was getting late, and everyone had things to do in the morning.

Jesus had went to bed an hour ago, but he couldn't fall asleep. He tossed and turned for a few minutes longer before eventually giving up. He crept silently out of his cell, trying not to wake anyone else. It was quite strange for him to sleep in a prison cell, and he figured that was why he couldn't fall asleep easily.

His bare feet padded quietly against the cold, cement floor as he made his way to the room that they used for strange. He rummaged around until he found a bottle of water, then took several long gulps. Man, he missed having the luxuries of drinking refrigerated water. The room temperature bottles he often drank from tasted like melted plastic, and he had to make an effort to avoid gagging.

A few minutes later, he began to wander the prison cells again. He eventually sat down at one of the tables they had found in the prison, in a place that appeared to be something of a cafeteria.

It all felt very strange. He couldn't help but feel like a criminal. Though, perhaps he was one. He had certainly killed his fair share of people.

He sat there for a while, rubbing his temples, eyes closed. He didn't hear when someone sat down across from him.

He jumped when a raspy voice murmured,

"Can't sleep either?"

His eyes snapped open, and Daryl pulled out a cigarette, not making eye contact.

Paul sighed, pushing his long hair out of his face. It felt greasy and dirty, and he longed for his shower back at Alexandria.

"I guess not." He replied.

Daryl blew out a puff of smoke, a troubled look on his face. To anyone else, Daryl would look the same as he always did, but Paul knew better. He knew when something was wrong, but he didn't bring it up. Daryl would talk to him eventually if something was truly bothering him.

"You should put that out." He finally settled on saying, gesturing towards the lit cigarette that balanced between Daryl's fingers. "They'll kill you. Or someone else."

Daryl glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

"How 'bout you make me?" He challenged.

There was a beat of silence, then Jesus shrugged and said,

"Okay."

He dumped his bottle of water over Daryl's head without hesitation.

Daryl sputtered, shocked for a moment, before muttering,

"Prick."

Jesus laughed quietly as Daryl angrily stood up.

"You started it." He commented mildly.

Daryl looked like he was going to start yelling at him, but Jesus cut him off.

"Goodnight, Daryl." He said,  walking away quickly.

He didn't want Daryl to take revenge on him tonight. 

Daryl watched him walk away, feeling more alone and annoyed than he had before.

****  
The next day, Hershel sent Michonne and Paul out on a run. With Rick breaking down, Hershel had stepped up as the new leader.

Though the group had a decent amount of food, they were running a bit low on medical supplies and ammunition, things that were essential in the apocalypse.

So at around noon, Michonne and Paul set off.

They arrived in a quiet town an hour later, then stashed their car in a bush before beginning to explore on foot. They walked through the deserted town together, quietly talking about life before the apocalypse.

"Okay, what's the worst thing you ever did in college?" Michonne asked.

Paul snorted.

"Well, I was never really one to break the law, I was always a rule follower. But my roommate asked me to be apart of this massive heist, and damn... I really needed to pay off my student debt."

Michonne stopped walking and looked at him with an odd expression on her face.

"What did you do?" She asked.

"I um, may have helped him rob a bank?"

She stared at him in disbelief.

"You did not."

He started laughing.

"I did, and he got caught, but I didn't. Granted, I didn't end up with any money..."

She shook her head and continued walking again.

"Okay, my turn to ask a question. What's the stupidest thing you've ever done trying to impress a guy?" He asked.

She thought for a moment, before saying,

"I lied and said I could speak a different language. He thought people who could speak multiple languages were cool. But it all went downhill when he asked me to tutor him and I tried to learn Chinese in three days."

Paul laughed, and she turned to him with a smirk.

"What about you? Stupidest thing you've done trying to impress a guy?" She asked.

Paul's mouth fell open.

"You know?" He asked.

She smiled.

"Honey. The whole group knows. The way you stare at Daryl is anything but subtle."

"Do you think he knows?" Paul asked.

She shook her head.

"He doesn't have a clue."

****

Paul and Michonne returned to the prison a few hours later.

Paul searched for Hershel to report back, though he really just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for a few hours.

"We have found _lifesaving_ supplies."  
He announced, once he found the older man sitting with Beth.

"What did you find?" Beth asked excitedly.

"A box of bandaids." He replied, a solemn expression on his face.  

Beth tried to hide a smile as Hershel frowned.

"Is that all?" Hershel inquired, somewhat annoyed.

"No, we found some Advil and a first aid kit as well. We also came across some canned food and a water filter."

Hershel nodded, seeming less annoyed.

"Good. Get some rest then."

Paul took it as a dismissal and left to look for Daryl, but Carl informed him that he was still out hunting. Trying not to feel disappointed, he sat next to Carl and tried to engage in a conversation about the comic books Carl had been reading recently.

He went to visit Rick shortly after, and he seemed to be doing better and worse at the same time. He was hallucinating that his dead wife talking to him, but as a result of this, he was getting more sleep and was eating more. It was scary though, as he believed Lori was still alive and wasn't actually dead. None of the other members of the group knew what to do, and Hershel said they would have to see if time could heal him.

By the time Jesus had finished talking to Rick, it was pitch black out. Everyone was exhausted, and Daryl had not yet returned.

Jesus forced himself to stay calm.

He knew Daryl could take care of himself, and that he needed his space.

He kept thinking about his earlier conversation with Michonne. Had she meant that he should make it more obvious that he was attracted to Daryl? Or would that make the situation worse? He wasn't sure. He was lost in his thoughts when a door slammed open.

Daryl stumbled through the door, breathing heavily, and carrying... Carol? No, it couldn't be.

Jesus wasted no time, shooting to his feet, calling out to Hershel for help.

Carol was unconscious and covered with blood, and Daryl swayed on his feet as he tried to support her weight. Hershel ran into the room, and ordered Daryl to place her on a cot in one of the cells. Beth was at his side in a second, ready to help.

Daryl practically dropped her on the cot, before stumbling out of the cell. He didn't make it far, and Jesus tried not to panic as he watched Daryl collapse onto his knees.

Hershel glanced at Daryl distractedly, before briefly looking up at Jesus.

"Can you help him?" He questioned. "I think he's just physically drained, and Carol's condition is more critical, at the moment."

Jesus nodded, trying desperately to control his breathing, and with the help of T-dog, he lifted Daryl onto a cot in another cell.

Daryl's face was covered in mud and cuts, and he mumbled incoherently. His eyes rolled back before he fell unconscious.

Jesus looked at T-dog, officially panicked.

"He'll be okay. He's probably just exhausted and dehydrated." T-dog said, trying to calm the other man. Like everyone else in the group, T-dog could see how much Jesus cared for Daryl.

"Okay. Get some water. I'll take care of the cuts." Paul replied, taking a deep breath.

T-dog nodded, pleased that the other man was beginning to pull it together, and left the cell. Jesus found the first aid kit in a matter of seconds, along with a washcloth. T-dog came back with the water a few moments later.

"Do you need me here? Or can I go make sure the others don't need help?" T-dog asked.

He didn't actually think that the others needed his help, but he wanted to give Paul some time alone with the archer.

Jesus nodded, distracted by Daryl.

"Yeah. Go on." He responded.

Jesus poured some water over the washcloth, and began wiping the dirt off of Daryl's face. He pushed the messy hair away from his cut face, and got out the rubbing alcohol. He poured the rubbing alcohol over the cuts, glad that Daryl couldn't feel the sting. He cleaned the cuts out thoroughly, making sure there was no trace of mud left.

He stepped back to admire his handy work a few minutes later, then frowned at Daryl's hair. It was caked in blood and dirt.

He sighed, and went back to the supply room, coming back with soap and a bucket.

He held the bucket with one hand, and poured water over Daryl's hair with the other, excess water falling in the bucket instead of the floor. He lathered his hands with soap, and ran them through Daryl's hair until the blood and dirt were gone. He finished rinsing his hair and smiled. There. Much better.

He ran his fingers through Daryl's hair, trying to comb the tangles out. Once his hair was brushed to his satisfaction, Jesus quickly checked the rest of his body for any other injuries. He ignored the old scars, he was used them after all. Besides the occasional scrape and bruise, Daryl looked fine.

Finally feeling content, he wondered if he could get Daryl to drink something while unconscious.

He poured a little water down Daryl's throat cautiously, and sighed in relief when Daryl swallowed. He continued to do this for a few minutes, until he decided that Daryl had drank enough for now.

Feeling exhausted, he sat on the ground next to Daryl's cot. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

 _I will not fall asleep_. He thought.  
 _I have to stay awake and make sure Daryl's alright._

But of course, not even a few minutes later, he was sound asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's a nice long chapter! Hope you enjoy it! :)

Paul woke up to the cot creaking next to him. He opened his eyes to see Daryl struggling to sit up.

"Woah! Take it easy!" Paul said, jumping to his feet.

He gently pushed Daryl back onto the cot, and Daryl glared.

"Carol." He rasped.

Jesus shook his head.

"She's okay. Thanks to you. Now you need to rest. And _drink_."

He shoved a glass of water into Daryl's hand, and helped him sit up.

Daryl continued to glare, but he took a sip anyway.

"Why are you here?" Daryl muttered.

Jesus frowned.

"Well, did you think I'd just leave you on the floor unconscious?" He asked.

Daryl shrugged, and Paul sighed.

"I wouldn't leave you. I promise. I'd never leave you."

He walked out of the cell, before Daryl could wonder exactly what he had meant to that.

*****

Jesus ran into Beth on his way to Carol's cell.

"Is she okay?" He asked, nodding his head towards her cot.

Beth gave him a tired smile.

"Yes. She's sleeping now."

"Are _you_ okay?" He asked.

"Of course." She assured him, touched that he had even bothered asked.

"And Daryl's okay?" She questioned.

She had been worried about the older man, but with Carol in such bad condition, she hadn't had the chance to check on him yet.

"Yes, he's much better, I think."

Beth smiled, and gave Jesus a hug. He jumped, surprised by the action, but he hugged back.

"What was that for?" He asked.

She shrugged.

"I don't know. I just felt like we could both use a hug right now."

 _This girl is too pure for this world_... He thought.

He smiled a little, and decided he would visit Carol later. She probably needed to sleep, and he was sure that Hershel had other things for him to do.

He turned away from Carol's cell, waved goodbye to Beth, then went to find Hershel.

"I'll talk to you later, Beth." He called over his shoulder, not wanting to come off as rude.

He would've talked to her longer, but again, he was sure there was work to be done.

****

"I talked to Carol for a few minutes." Hershel said, turning to Jesus.

Jesus gave him a short nod, somewhat surprised that Carol he gained consciousness already. 

"She said some things that concerned me." The older man continued.

"Like what?" Jesus asked, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Hershel frowned and took a deep breath before speaking again.

"She managed to escape from Terminus, and found a small town called Woodbury. The man in charge there, Phillip, or more commonly referred to as the governor, told her she could stay there as long as she liked. She stayed there for a couple of days, but something seemed off. People kept disappearing, and she didn't trust Philip. He eventually told her that if she tried to leave, he would kill her. She escaped in the middle of the night, but not before she was shot. All she can remember is running into the woods before falling unconscious. She's lucky Daryl found her before a walker did."

Paul felt the blood drain from his face. Oh, he had heard all about the governor, and Carol was right not to trust him. He was a madman who kept decapitated heads and killed his own people. But of course, Jesus couldn't mention any of this to Hershel.

He settled for saying,

"I'm just glad she's alright."

There was a beat of silence before Paul asked,

"Is Rick doing any better?"

It had been a few hours since he had visited Rick's cell, which was plenty of time for improvement if he was being optimistic.

"Thankfully, yes. He's finally accepted the fact that Lori is gone, and he's stopped having the hallucinations. He was spending some time with Carl, last I saw. I'm glad he's doing better, because I really think that we're really going to need him soon."

"Why do you say that?" Jesus questioned.

"I just have a feeling things are going to get bad real fast." Hershel replied, very quietly.

Jesus nodded, and said nothing more. It seemed that things were always going bad, and he wasn't very optimistic that would change.

****

There was some kind of flu going around, and everyone was miserable.

People stayed in bed most of the day, and Hershel was growing concerned. They had no real way to treat the virus, so everyone would just have to wait it out.

It was late in Autumn, so it wasn't that uncommon for everyone to constantly be sick, but still, it really sucked. No one was able to go on runs to look for supplies, which meant that they were beginning to run low again.

Everyone was stuck in their own cells, and it was beginning to wear on their sanity. No one enjoyed being cooped up, even if they did feel miserable.

Today seemed like it would be no different than the other miserable days, when all of the sudden the group heard a crash from outside their block.

"The hell was that?" Daryl called, loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

He immediately got up out of bed and began to investigate.

"Probably just a stray walker." Michonne commented, coughing loudly.

Daryl felt like shit, but that didn't stop him from deciding to investigate the noise.

Hershel, Glenn, and Jesus reluctantly followed Daryl. None of them felt like leaving their cleared out cell block, but they couldn't let Daryl wander off into the walker infested prison alone. He led them through a few empty hallways until they had left the section of the prison that was cleared of walkers.

"Ughh..." Glenn groaned, blowing his nose. "It's probably nothing. Come on Daryl, let's go back."

Daryl glared, and shook his head.

"You go back if you want, but I'm going."

Glenn was about to turn around and go back, when they heard a faint "Help!"

Glenn froze, and the group went to see who it was.

*****

They found the source of the noise about a half an hour later. It was two prisoners, who were still trapped inside their cells. Jesus looked questioningly at Hershel, who sighed wearily.

"Let them out..." He commanded.

Jesus stepped forward, picking the locks and setting the prisoners free in a matter of a few minutes.

"Oh my god... we're free." One of the men said in awe. "I thought we were going to die in there! We were running out of food and water!"

Daryl eyed the men distrustfully.

"What's your name, and why are you locked up in prison?" He asked bluntly.

"I'm Oscar, and this is Tomas. We're in here for possession of drugs." Oscar explained.

Jesus relaxed a little. At least they weren't here for murder. Well, not that he could judge if they were. He'd be a hypocrite if he did.

Daryl, however, didn't trust either of the two men.

"Okay, well, you're free now, so get out." He spat, jerking his head towards the nearest exit.

Tomas eyed him nervously.

"What's happening? Outside, I mean. One day, all the guards and prisoners just left. We waited for days for someone to come back for us, but no one did." He said, his brown eyes haunted.

Jesus felt a wave of sympathy for the men.

"A disease took over the world. When people die or get bitten, they turn into walkers, or the living dead." Hershel explained patiently.

Tomas went pale.

"You can't just throw us out there, man." He begged. "We'll die!"

Daryl pulled out his gun, trying to show that he wasn't messing around. He was sick, and tired, and not in the mood to deal with this shit.

"Get out, or get shot." He growled.

The men put their hands up, and Oscar muttered,

"Alright, Alright..."

Daryl led them back to the exit, still at gunpoint, and the group watched as the prisoners went outside for the first time in years.

Jesus felt kind of bad.

"Maybe we should've helped them..." He whispered guiltily.

Glenn snorted.

"The last thing we need is a couple of drug addicts trying to kill us." He muttered.

Daryl grunted in agreement.

Hershel looked a little upset, but he didn't say anything else about the matter. The group made their way back to their separate cells, and no one talked about the prisoners again.

****

It was 3 days later.

People were starting to recover from the virus going around.

Carol was finally up out of bed. She was tired, but doing okay. Being shot and then getting the flu took a lot out of her, but she had struggled through it.

Jesus smiled at her. She was becoming the strong women he had known back at Alexandria.

Daryl was also doing better, and Hershel had allowed him to go hunting, though he was still concerned about his health. He couldnt have forced Daryl to stay at the prison if he wanted to.

Rick was starting to take charge again, and everyone agreed that it was good to have him back. Rick was the only one who hadn't gotten sick, and that seemed to pull him out of his trance. He realized that the group needed his help, so he had stepped up.

Jesus was starting to grow tired of the prison now that he was feeling better. He hated staying in one place for too long, and preferred to move around. He decided to ask Rick if he could go out on a run.

"Sure." Rick agreed. "Bring Daryl with you."

"I, um. I usually go with Michonne though." Jesus said, somewhat nervous to question Rick's authority.

He wasn't sure how mentally stable the man was, and he didn't want to do anything to upset him.

Rick smiled slightly.

"You two work well together." He replied simply.

Paul nodded. Well, who was he to argue? At least he had another excuse to be alone with Daryl.

He waited until Daryl came back from hunting later that afternoon, then jogged to catch up to the other man.

"Daryl!" He called, somewhat out of breath.

Daryl turned, seeming impatient.

"Yeah?" He asked, a few dead rabbits draped across his shoulder.

"Rick wants us to go on a run later." He explained, still trying to breathe. Jeez, he felt out of shape.

"Yeah. Gimmie a few minutes." Daryl said, jerking his head towards the bloody rabbit corpses.

Jesus smiled, trying to ignore the fact that he was covered in blood and grime.

"Of course. Take your time." He replied cheerily.

Daryl rolled his eyes and walked away.

He was tired, and not much in the mood to go on a run, let alone with Paul. Sure, Paul was okay. They were friends now. But the man talked constantly, and something about him always made Daryl feel like he was missing something. Something about him made Daryl feel safe, yet uneasy at the same time, and he hated it. Or maybe he liked it, and that was what scared him. He had finally decided Paul wasn't entirely crazy. After all, he hadn't brought the time Travel thing up since they had first met. Maybe it had just been a prank. He decided that was what he wanted to believe, even though his mind screamed that he was wrong.

****

They were leaving an hour later, Rick watching them carefully. Michonne joined him by the prison gates.

"Did you do it on purpose?" She asked.

"Do what?" He shot back, an innocent expression on his face.

"You know what! Sending them out together. Alone." She elaborated.

Rick allowed a small smile to show.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." He replied coyly.

It felt good to smile. It had been far too long.

Michonne laughed and gently punched his arm.

Jesus watched their interaction from the review-mirrors in the truck. He smiled at their easy banter.

 _There they go._ He thought _. Probably already starting to fall in love, just like Maggie and Glenn._

Yes, he was a hopeless romantic, he would admit it. You wouldn't think that a hopeless romantic would fall for Daryl Dixon. But there he was, sitting in a pickup truck, thinking that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

****

"Don't you usually go out with Michonne?" Daryl asked, once they were out on the road.

Jesus glanced up at him in surprise. He expected Daryl to drive in silence.

"Yes." He replied. "But Rick thinks we work well together."

Daryl snorted.

"What? You don't think we work well together?" Jesus asked, somewhat stung.

Daryl shrugged.

"Not sure yet."

"Well. I like being with you." Paul replied easily, smiling brightly.

Daryl ignored the way his heart skipped a beat, and rolled his eyes. He didn't bother dignifying that with a response.

"Don't you miss the radio?" Paul asked, staring wistfully at the little black box by the dashboard.

Daryl shrugged.

"Sometimes." He replied simply.

Jesus glanced over at him.

"What's one of your favorite songs?" He asked.

Daryl huffed in annoyance, but he didn't tell him to shut up, so that was something.

"I, uh, don't remember what it's called." He muttered, feeling kind of embarrassed.

"Well, how does it go? Maybe I'll know it." Jesus said.

He had a feeling he already knew what it was, but one could never be too sure.

Daryl began to mumble the lyrics, looking even more embarrassed. It was kind of adorable.

Jesus smiled, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

"I know what song that is!" He exclaimed.

He started to sing without hesitation.

 _"Cause I'll be by your side whenever you fall, in the dead of night, whenever you call. And please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you. Look at these hands at my side. They swallowed the grave on that night, while I drank the worlds sin. So I could carry you in, and give you life._ "

Daryl forced himself to watch the road as Jesus closed his eyes and continued singing.

Something about his voice was hypnotizing, and he felt kind of disappointed when Paul stopped.

Jesus smiled knowingly, eyes still closed. He knew Daryl liked to listen to him sing. After all, how many nights had he used to spend singing Daryl to sleep, trying to get him to forget about his nightmares?

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I, um.... could you maybe sing something else?" Daryl requested, blushing a little.

He regretted it the second he asked. What was he doing? He shouldn't have asked that.

But much to his surprise, Jesus grinned and said,

"Of course."

****

"What did Rick ask us to look for?" Daryl asked, giving his surroundings a quick once over.

They had stopped at a gas station to see if there was anything worth taking. It was abandoned and there were no walkers in sight. So why not take a look?

"He didn't actually say what to look for. I was getting sick of spending so much time trapped inside the prison, and I had to get out. So I asked him if I could go on a run. I figured I'd grab anything I thought was useful." He explained.

Daryl nodded. He could certainly relate to feeling trapped. Although he hadn't wanted to go on a run earlier, he was actually enjoying himself somewhat.

He watched Paul pick the locks of the gas station doors in a few seconds. He tried to hide the fact that he was impressed, but Paul's smug look indicated that he had failed.

They entered the gas station quietly, eyes scanning for danger. There appeared to be nothing, so they split up, looking for anything useful.

Paul stuffed random things into his bag. Batteries. Chips (though they were probably going stale). Any drinks he could find. Lighters. Some over the counter medicine.

Daryl watched him quietly from the other side of the gas station. He didn't see anything of importance that Paul hadn't already grabbed.

"You ready?" He asked, after a few minutes.

Jesus nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go."

  
They exited the gas station and started walking back to the truck. Suddenly, a walker stumbled out from behind the corner of the gas station. Daryl turned, but not quickly enough. The walker bumped into him with enough force to send them both sprawling onto the ground. Daryl desperately pushed the walker's snapping jaws away from his neck.

Jesus acted quickly, taking out his knife and sinking it into the walker's skull. It went limp, and Daryl pushed it off of him.

"Are you okay?" Jesus asked, heart still racing. "You didn't get bit, right?"

He tried not to panic for what felt like the hundredth time that week. Was love supposed to be this scary?

Daryl stood up, casually brushing dirt and walker guts off of himself.

"Nah. I'm alright."

Jesus reacted without thinking, pulling Daryl into a hug. Daryl tensed, but didn't push him away.

Jesus pulled back a few seconds later, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Sorry. I was just... I was really worried about you for a second there." He tried to explain.

Daryl felt confused. No one had ever been worried about him before. Well, maybe his mother, but then again, she had walked out of his life years ago. For a brief moment, he wondered what had become of her. She was probably dead. And maybe that was for the better.

"Daryl?" Paul asked, when Daryl said nothing, a bemused expression on his face.

Daryl snapped out of his trance.

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks for... um, saving me back there." He mumbled, still dazed.

Jesus frowned, concerned, but forced himself to smile.

"Don't thank me. I know you'd do the same for me." He replied.

And when Daryl thought about it, he realized that he would.

******

It was dark by the time they had decided to call it quits for the day, and Jesus was beginning to doze off while Daryl drove them back to the prison.

Daryl abruptly stopped the truck after an hour or two of driving, and nudged Jesus.

"Look." He whispered.

Jesus rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked to where Daryl was pointing.

There was smoke coming from a side of the prison. Walkers swarmed out of a giant hole from the same side of the cement building, and there were at least a dozen cars surrounding the prison. And what was that... was that a _tank_?

"What the hell..." He muttered, still trying to process everything.

Daryl opened the truck door.

"Come on." He commanded, his feet already hitting the ground.

Jesus followed him reluctantly. Whatever was happening, it looked bad, and he wasn't sure that he had the energy to fight after going out on a run.

The two men left the paved road, and silently crept through the woods. The closer to the prison they got, the louder the screams where. There were gunshots, and unfamiliar voices shouting.

They continued to get closer, until they could clearly see what was going on.

A large group of people were escorting Rick's group out of the prison, along with all their supplies.

Jesus watched them, his eyes narrowed.

A man with an eyepatch turned towards Rick, a gleeful expression on his face.

"Well, you chose the hard way..." He said, laughing maniacally.

Jesus gasped quietly, and Daryl turned to face him.

"What?" He hissed.

"That's the Governor." Paul whispered back. "Carol was talking about him earlier. He tried to kill her."

Daryl growled, low and menacing, and Paul shivered at the sound.

The governor shoved the rest of the group into a few different cars, and they gradually began to drive away.

"You'll all make a nice addition to Woodbury. I can't wait for the... _entertainment_ to begin." He murmured, an evil grin lighting up his scarred face.

"Do you remember where you found Carol?" Paul whispered.

Daryl nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah."

"Good. Carol said that she wasn't far from Woodbury when she fell unconscious. If you can get us there, we can find Woodbury. It will be easier than following them. This way, we can't get caught." Jesus suggested in a whisper.

He doubted the governor could hear them, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

Daryl nodded.

"I can get us there." He murmured back, his eyes shining with determination.

They watched as the last of the cars pulled away from the prison, leaving it a burning, walker infested, mess.

****

Daryl and Paul walked through the woods, trying to ignore the fact that it was _freezing_.

Almost all the leaves had fallen off the trees, and Paul looked at the brown leaves in annoyance. They were much more visible with the leaves gone, and it was making him uneasy.

Why was everything going so badly for them? He felt like all they were doing was moving from place to place, bad things happening constantly. They didn't ever have the chance to take a break. It was all moving so quickly, and it was exhausting. How could so many things happen in such a short period of time?

Daryl was had started to track, now that they were closer to the spot where he found Carol. It was dark though, and easier said than done. He followed his old footsteps with some difficulty, until he found the exact spot where he had found Carol.

"Here." He said, pointing to the ground.

"Good. We should be close then." Jesus replied.

They turned off the flashlight they had with them, just in case. They would be of no use if they were caught now. They continued walking until they reached the edge of the woods, until they could make out the outline of buildings and houses.

There was a giant fire, and stadium bleachers surrounding a small ring.

He heard Daryl take in a sharp breath, and he looked in the direction that Daryl was staring.

He had to bite his tongue to stop from gasping out loud.

Michonne stood in the center of the ring, a walker across from her, held by rope restraints. Her legs were chained together so she couldn't run, and people surrounded all sides of the ring, sitting on the bleachers. They all cheered as the walker was set lose, and started heading towards Michonne.

Daryl stared frozen as Michonne screamed, fighting off the walker.

"We need to move!" Jesus whispered frantically.

Daryl turned to face him, his eyes lit with desperation.

"What's the plan? Run in there, guns blazing?" He snapped.

"No. We try to find the others while everyone else is focused on Michonne." Paul stated.

Daryl frowned.

"What about Michonne though?" He hissed, not at all liking the sound of that plan.

"I think she can hold her own." Jesus murmured, gesturing to Michonne, who had kicked the walkers head off.

Daryl sighed in resignation.

"Fine. But this seems like a terrible idea, just barging in there..."

"I know." Jesus agreed.

"We could die." Daryl added.

"Yeah. We'll probably get ourselves killed."

There was silence.

"We're going to do it anyway though, aren't we?"

Jesus turned to face him with a grin.

"Absolutely."

******

So it turned out that they were right. They were probably going to die. A guard had caught them almost immediately, and they were now sitting back to back, tired up and on a basement floor.

"That went well, didn't it?" Jesus stated mildly.

Daryl groaned.

"This is your fault." He accused.

Jesus glared, even though Daryl couldn't see him.

"It is _not_ my fault that we're tied up. You're the one who gave us away by sneezing." He retorted.

"No, you gave us away by tripping and falling into the side of a building." Daryl argued.

There was silence, and then Jesus started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Daryl snapped.

"It's just... god, this is so ridiculous." He said, snorting.

Daryl shook his head, but he felt his anger melting away.

"You know. We'll get out of this. We always do." Paul assured him.

Daryl said nothing.

The door to the basement was kicked open, causing both of the men to jump.

The governor sauntered down the stairs and grinned.

"Now..." He began slowly, dragging to ward out. "This is the way I see it. You have two options. You can kill your little friends, and survive, Or, you can struggle and die. Those are the only options I'm going to give you"

"Go to hell." Daryl spat.

"Well. He made the choice for both of you." The governor said, grinning.

He untied them, his grin never once faltering.

"Come with me." He demanded, pointing a gun at Daryl's head.

Daryl growled, but Jesus gently placed a hand on his back, and whispered,

" _Go."_

Daryl reluctantly followed, and Jesus trailed behind him.

The governor led them out of the house, and they were greeted by bright lights and cheers.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" The governor called, and the crowd fell quiet. "WE'RE GOING TO CHANGE THINGS UP. WE USUALLY HAVE SOMEONE FIGHT A WALKER TO THE DEATH. BUT TONIGHT, THESE TWO MEN ARE GOING TO FIGHT TO THE DEATH, FOR OUR VERY OWN ENTERTAINMENT. START PLACING YOUR BETS. WHO WILL WIN, AND WHO WILL DIE?"

The crowd screamed with glee, and Jesus felt the blood drain from his face.

"No..." He whispered.

This wasn't happening, damnit.

Daryl was staring at him in horror, and the governor sauntered towards them. He handed both of them a knife, and leaned in close to whisper in their ears.

"Whoever wins... gets set free."

He abruptly shoved the two into the center of the ring without warning.

Jesus felt his hands shaking, and he could barely hold his knife.

Daryl and Jesus stared at each other from opposite sides of the ring. Jesus glanced to his right and saw Michonne, bloody and sweaty, but still alive. Tears streaked down her face, and she shuddered when she made eye contact with him.

Daryl raised his knife, walking toward Jesus.

His hands were shaking as well. He walked slowly, and grimaced, like every step was causing him pain.

Daryl gently placed the knife against Jesus's neck, and the crowd screamed in glee.

"Paul..." He whispered, tears threatening to form behind his eyes.

He swore under his breath at Paul's terrified expression.

He couldn't do this. Why was it so damn hard? He had killed people before. When had he grown to care for this prick so much? Enough to cry? He could only remember crying three times in his life. Once when his brother died, the second time after his mother had been killed, and the third time when he had been forced to kill his own father.

He hated to cry. Crying was a sign of weakness. You shouldn't let it show.

Jesus stood there, completely still, never breaking eye contact. He allowed Daryl to place the knife against his throat, and didn't struggle.

"FIGHT BACK." Daryl yelled, frustrated.

What was this asshole doing? How could he just stand there so calmly, waiting to be killed?

Jesus dropped his knife, a look of peace settling into his face.

"No. _NO_!"

Daryl slammed his fist against one of the bleachers. He didn't want to have more blood on his hands. He didn't want to kill anyone.

Jesus felt the tears spilling down his face, and he tried to stop them, for Daryl's sake.

This was it. He was destined to die in a few weeks anyway. How much time did he have left, anyway? Daryl still didn't love him, and he probably never would.

"I'm not going to fight you Daryl." Paul whispered.

"I can't... I can't do this." Daryl rasped brokenly.

His hands were shaking so badly, and Paul felt the knife starting to cut into his skin.

"Look at me." Paul commanded gently.

A drop of blood rolled down his neck.

Daryl glanced up, his eyes moist. His was breathing heavily, and his hands shook violently.

"You can do this." Paul soothed.

"I can't-" Daryl started, but Paul cut him off.

"Listen. You have to do this. For me. I promise Daryl. You'll be okay...."

He smiled sadly at the man in front of him. He was so handsome. So brave.

Daryl continued shaking his head, but the knife dug a little deeper. He let out a choked sob, and Jesus whispered,

"Daryl. It's okay."

The knife pressed deeper.

"It's okay. I promise." Paul continued to soothe.

He paused for a moment, debating if he should say what he wanted to.

"I love you." He confessed quietly, barely hearing his own words over the screaming crowds.

Still the knife cut deeper, crimson blood spilling around the edges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cliffhanger, huh?  
> ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the song Jesus was singing was "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE!!! 
> 
> I have decided to change something. Instead of 4 weeks to get Daryl to fall in love with Jesus, I'm giving him 12. I feel like this is more realistic, and I can write a longer fic. 
> 
> I went back and changed this in the previous chapters. If anyone notices that I missed something, or made a mistake, please comment so I can fix it.
> 
> Thank you! :)

  
"What did you just say?" Daryl asked, face pale.

Jesus felt like he was choking. It was getting harder to breathe.

"You heard me." He sputtered.

"No, I didn't. "

Someone in the crowd screamed,

"KILL HIM ALREADY."

Daryl flinched.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jesus could see Michonne swaying close to the governor. She was walking towards him, completely unnoticed by the crowd as they watched Jesus and Daryl.

"Daryl." Jesus said, through clenched teeth. "I have a plan. You need to fight me. I think Michonne is going to do something."

The pressure on is neck lessened a little, and Daryl's eyes darted to Michonne. He nodded, ever so slightly.

Jesus took that moment to shove Daryl, as hard as he could. Daryl stumbled back, and Jesus picked up his knife.

The crowd went wild.

Michonne's eyes were unfocused, and she glared at the governor, continuing to inch forward a little.

Jesus needed to buy them time. He took a deep breath, and tackled Daryl to the ground. He straddled his body, pinning him so he couldn't move.

"Sorry..." He muttered.

He raised his knife, acting like he was going to stab Daryl. Daryl's eyes went wide.

"Fight me." He hissed. "I won't hurt you."

  
Daryl rolled, so their positions were flipped, and Daryl was on top. Jesus winced as he felt his wrist crack, and he accidentally cut Daryl's face as they were moving. Daryl cringed slightly, blood dripping down his face.  
He silently willed Michonne to hurry. He couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Michonne took a deep breath. Everything was blurry. She was right next to the governor. He was watching Daryl and Jesus, grinning madly.  
She moved closer. She looked at his neck. It was exposed. A crazy idea formed in her mind. He started to turn around, and she lurched forward, biting his neck as hard as she could. He screamed as blood filled her mouth. She could hear the terrified screams of the crowd. Gun shots were fired. She swayed. The governor pushed her away. She stumbled to the ground. She could see Jesus and Daryl running towards her, as her head hit the ground.

The crowd was beginning to start running, terrified. Their entertainment had never... fought back before! The guards desperately tried to calm everyone down. Panicked screams filled the ring. Daryl had stabbed a guard in the shoulder and took his gun, shoving the knife into his pocket.

He threw the gun to Jesus, who caught it with ease. How many times had they fought together, he wondered. Far too many, but they certainly trusted each other, so maybe it was a good thing.

"Take It and cover me! I'll grab Michonne!" Daryl called.

Daryl scooped Michonne up, and they were running.

"The basement!" Jesus yelled. "Our weapons are in there!"

The guards had disarmed them and tied them up earlier, but they had left their weapons in plain sight, sitting on a table across the room from them.

Daryl and Jesus ran to the basement.

"Leave Michonne here." Jesus said. "We need to find the others. She should be safe here."

Daryl looked like he wanted to argue, but he laid her down anyway. Jesus handed him his crossbow, and grabbed their bags and his gun.

"What are you gonna do with two guns?" Daryl asked.

"Hopefully give one to Rick." Jesus explained.

Daryl had to admit that was a good idea, something he hadn't thought of.

Jesus cringed as he held the second gun. He slung it over his shoulder, so he could shoot his own gun. His wrist was throbbing, and a bone stuck out at an odd angle. Daryl noticed and sucked in a deep breath.

"Did I do that?" He whispered, pointing to Jesus's wrist.

"It's okay Daryl. If you hadn't noticed, I accidentally cut your face when we were in the ring. I didn't mean to, and you didn't either."

He sighed as the older man frowned, and Jesus could tell he was blaming himself. He always did. Jesus felt bad as well, but now wasn't the time. He took a second to look over Daryl's face, wondering if he would need stitches. The blood had smeared all over his face, and with all the dirt and grime on his face, he looked more monster than human.

"It's okay. Right now, we need to get the others." He urged.

They were running again. Jesus taking the lead. A guard stepped in front of Jesus and yelled, "Stop!"

Without thinking, Jesus punched him in the nose. Pain exploded in his wrist, and he cried out. Unfortunately, he didn't do as much damage to the guard as he would have liked. The guard recovered quickly, grabbed his wrist and began twisting. He whimpered, and was beginning to see stars.

Daryl acted quickly. He grabbed the man by the neck, slamming him against the side of the building.

"Don't. Touch. Him." He growled.

The mans eyes went wide as Daryl started to choke him.

"I'm... sorry..." he gasped.

Daryl let go, and the man tried to run away. He wasn't fast enough. Daryl had his crossbow in an instant, shooting an arrow through the man's head.

Paul stared at him, mouth open in surprise.

"Good lord." He muttered. "You reminded me of the ocean, right there."

"What?" Daryl asked.

"Because you're salty and you scare people." Jesus explained.

"You're making a joke NOW?" Daryl asked.

Jesus took off running again.

"Im trying to make light of the fact that you just killed a man trying to protect me." He called over his shoulder.

Daryl shook his head, and ran after him.

"I didn't kill him for YOU." he argued.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't true.

****

They searched for 15 minutes, trying to find the rest of their group. Paul was growing worried. Michonne was alone, they were running out of ammo, and they still hadn't found a trace of Rick or anyone else.

All of the sudden, there was an explosion. The light was blinding. The ground shook, and both Daryl and Jesus were thrown to the ground.

"What the Hell! Paul?" Daryl yelled. Smoke filled his lungs and made his eyes burn. He couldn't see anything.

He stumbled to his feet.

"Paul?" He called again, worried. 

Jesus Christ, seriously, when had he grown to care for this Prick so much? He shouldn't. You shouldn't care for someone in the apocalypse. Shouldn't get too attached. Yes, he told himself that over and over, but here he was, fighting panic. When had they grown so close? Maybe when you go through hell together, you have no choice but to become attached.

He heard a cough, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm okay!" Paul called, coughing.  
"We need to find the others!"

They heard voices.

"Where's the governor." Someone spat. "I have some unfinished business with him."

"I don't know.... we've been here all night, forced to fight walkers." A voice responded weakly.

"Rick!" Paul said, turning to Daryl.

They started running in the direction of  
the voices.

"Please, let us out." Carol begged.

They heard a gunshot, and Carol screamed.

Jesus felt his heart hammer in his chest.

The smoke cleared, and a group of men stood outside a prison cell.

"Well good god, lady. I had to shoot the lock off the door to get y'all out!" The man said, and Jesus let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The man saw Jesus and Daryl appear.

"Where's Phillip?" The man growled, pointing a gun at Jesus.

Daryl growled, but Jesus put his hands up, dropping the guns.

"We're with them." He said, pointing to Rick. "The governor was back that way, by the bleachers and ring last time we saw him, and he was injured."

The man nodded and lowered his gun.

"Good. My name's Joe by the way, and this is my group. And let this be a lesson to you all. NO ONE tries to take our supplies." He snapped.

"We'll keep that in mind." Rick said.

Before Rick could introduce himself, Joe took off, his group following behind him.

Rick turned to Jesus and Daryl.

"Where's Michonne." He asked, looking worried.

"She's back that way. We tried to leave her in a safe place.... she's unconscious." Jesus explained.

"Take me to her." Rick said firmly.

Jesus tossed him a gun and said, "you'll need this."

"Thanks." Rick responded.

Daryl started leading them back the way they came.

Jesus scanned the group until he saw Hershel. He fell into step next the the older man.

He handed him the second gun, and Hershel looked at him curiously.

"You'll be unarmed." He commented.

"I'm not much use with my wrist." Jesus explained, sticking out his hand.

Hershel grimaced when he saw the bone sticking out.

"We'll take care of that later." He promised.

Jesus nodded, grateful Hershel was there.

****

Michonne still was laying on the ground, exactly where they had left her. Rick ran to her, picking her up. Her breaths came out short and shallow.

Her eyes opened slightly.

"Rick?" She asked, eyes dazed.

"Yes. I'm here. It's okay." He soothed.

She coughed.

"Don't judge me. But I think I may have just murdered someone." Her eyes rolled back, and she went unconscious again.

Rick turned to Daryl, confused.

"She, uh, may have taken a chunk out of the governor's neck." Daryl explained.

Rick started laughing. He laughed until tears streamed down his face.

"Oh my god. It's not.... it's not funny. I'm sorry." He said, still laughing.

"He's lost it again..." Carol muttered.

"Whatever. We need to get out of here. Now." T-dog said, loudly enough that the whole group could hear him.

"Where will we go?" Beth asked, looking somewhat nervous.

Maggie grabbed her hand and gently said,

"We'll figure something out."

Glenn smiled at her.

"Of course we will! We're all still alive. We're gonna be okay."

The group left yet another place in total chaos.

They didn't know what had become of the governor, and they didn't stay to find out. If Michonne hadn't killed him, then they trusted that Joe would. Either way, they wouldn't need to worry about him ever again.

****

They walked through the night. They had no supplies, besides a few guns and the few things Daryl and Jesus had just found on their run.

Luckily, Jesus had grabbed some Advil while he was at the gas station. His wrist was killing him, but at least the Advil dulled the pain a little.

The group decided to stop for a 20 minute break. They were all exhausted.  
Hershel sat next to Jesus.

"We need to put the bone back in place, and then make sure it doesn't move until it healed."

Jesus went a little pale, knowing how badly it would hurt.

Hershel took his arm.

"I'm going to move the bone back in place, okay? On the count of three. One... two...three!"

There was a snap. Everyone in the group cringed. Jesus bit his lip so hard it was bleeding, but he didn't cry out. Hershel used a t-shirt and some sticks as a splint.

"That's the best I can do for now." He said.

The entire group sat in silence for a few minutes. It felt strange, but no one really felt like talking. They were far too tired.

People were starting to doze off, when Rick announced that it was time for them to start moving again. There were groans, but nobody protested.

Rick was still carrying Michonne, and he looked dead on his feet.

Jesus walked next to T-dog, and they talked quietly for the next half hour. Jesus was finally starting to relax. They were all alive. Everything would be okay.

*****

"Look!" Beth said excitedly.

They had been walking down a dirt road for the past few hours. The sun was starting to come up.

"A church!" Maggie exclaimed.

Rick frowned.

"What if it's full of walkers? How are we going to clear it? We have a few knives... and three guns. Besides, do any of you have the energy to clear the church anyway?" He questioned.

Daryl was now carrying Michonne, who was still unconscious.

"We should try." He said.

He really wanted to rest. He needed to rest. The sooner they found a place to stay, the sooner he could sleep for a few hours.

The rest of the group agreed, and Rick muttered,

"Fine."

They walked to the church door, and Rick knocked on it.

"What, you think someone's gonna answer it?" Daryl snorted.

"No. I want to try and see how many walkers there are. We might get a better idea if they come to the door and we can hear them, or see the door move." Rick explained.

There was nothing.

Rick reached for the door knob, when it started to turn.

Beth let out a small gasp.

The church door opened, and Jesus smiled a little.

Oh, he should have known.

"Hello. I am Father Gabriel. Can I help you?"

Rick gave him a grim smile.

"Yeah. Do you think we could stay here a few nights, to get back on our feet?" He asked.

Father Gabriel started slowly backing away.

"I don't think-" he started.

"No. Let me rephrase that. You're going to let us stay a few nights, or we shoot you." Rick said firmly.

Father Gabriel's eyes went comically wide.

"Of c-course." He stuttered, letting them in.

The group immediately collapsed on the church floor.

Jesus himself was exhausted, but everyone looked worse.

"They did have to fight walkers" he reminded himself.

He tapped Rick and whispered,

"I'll keep watch. I don't really think we should trust him."

After all, he knew Gabriel. But he also knew that he had changed a lot during his time with Rick, and he didn't know THIS Gabriel.

"Thank you." Rick said, grateful Jesus had stepped up.

"Sure." Jesus responded.

He went to sit in one of the pews, getting comfortable while the rest of the group started to doze off.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and jumped when someone tapped his shoulder.

Daryl looked at him nervously.

"Can we talk?" He asked, glancing back at the others.

Jesus smiled, and he scooted over so Daryl could sit next to him.

"I want to say..." he faltered slightly.

Jesus nodded encouragingly.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Daryl. Stop apologizing. " he snapped.

He didn't know why he did it. He was just so tired.

Daryl started to get up. He didn't want to argue now. He had come over to apologize, and that's what he had done.  He didn't need to mess anything else up. 

"Wait." Jesus said, grabbing his hand, feeling somewhat guilty.  
"I shouldn't have snapped like that. I'm sorry. And... We're alright, you know. You and me."

Daryl stayed silent for a moment, and Jesus watched him wearily.

"Nothing else is all right" he finally whispered.

Jesus took a sharp breath.

"But we are." He responded.

He realized he was still holding Daryl's hand, and he slowly pulled away. He missed the contact immediately.

"What did you say before, when we were in the ring?" Daryl asked.

"I don't remember. Nothing important." Jesus lied.

Daryl glanced at him suspiciously, but didn't pry any further.

They were gazing at each other, and Jesus knew he needed to say something, before he leaned in and kissed the other man senseless.

"Your cut. We need to take care of that. We have the first aid kit I found." He suggested.

"I'm fine." Daryl muttered.

"I'm cleaning it anyway." Jesus replied.

He got up, looking for the first aid kit.

He came back with some water, gauze,  
Neosporin, and a bandaid.

"Guess what? That bastard has a whole room stocked with food and water." He announced to Daryl.

Daryl shrugged.

Jesus poured some water on the gauze, and started wiping away the blood and dirt. Daryl looked anywhere but Jesus, who pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. He rubbed some Neosporin on the cut, then gently placed a bandaid on his face.

"There, all better." He said.

Daryl glared.

"I look ridiculous with that giant bandaid on my face." He complained.

"You always look ridiculous anyway." Jesus teased.

Daryl growled.

"Get some sleep, Paul." He said.

Jesus started to argue, but Daryl cut him off.

"Go. I'll take watch."

Jesus looked so tired. And Daryl had accidentally broken his wrist. He felt kind of bad, like he needed to make it up to Paul somehow. Daryl's heart skipped a beat when Jesus looked up at him, appreciation shining in his giant blue eyes.

"Thank you." He said, exhaustion clear in his voice.

Paul got up, and walked to the corner of the church where everyone else was sleeping. He laid on the floor next to Rick, and was asleep before his head hit the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update for a few days! I went back and edited the past chapters, and made some minor changes to them. Hopefully I got rid of all the typos or mistakes! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> XOXOXO

"Okay everyone. Here's the plan. Glenn, Jesus and I will go on a run together. Daryl and T-dog will go hunting. Hershel and Carol will stay with Michonne, to make sure she's okay. Beth, and Maggie. If you two feel comfortable going out, we really need supplies." Rick said, standing in front of the church.

Jesus frowned a little. He wasn't sure he'd be much of a help, with his broken wrist and all.

"We'll go out, if you give us a gun and a knife." Maggie announced, much to Hershel's dismay.

Father Gabriel stood in the corner, looking uneasy. He had given the group some food. Apparently, there had been a canned food drive a few days before the walkers took over, and he had been living off of that. He hadn't gone outside yet at all, and he was absolutely terrified.

The rest of the group agreed to the plans, and Rick, Glenn, and Jesus all left. Sadly, they had no cars, so they'd have to wait until they could find one. Until then, they'd go on foot.

****

They walked through the woods, talking quietly. The men were all uneasy, considering they lacked weapons. They were as quiet as they could be, trying not to attract the attention of the walkers. If they happened to run into a heard of them, they'd probably be dead.

"I have an idea!!" Jesus suddenly announced.

Rick glanced at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"We're looking for a place to stay, right? More permanent than the church? Well, remember when those people took Carol and Daryl and I? Most of them were killed at that place Terminus! So it's pretty much empty. And Daryl and I met this guy, Andrew. He'd might let us stay. It's a big building, already cleared out. It's our best chance." Jesus said excitedly.

Rick gave a short nod.

"Good thinking. We'll look into it." He said.

They walked in silence for awhile.

Glenn looked nervous. He chewed on his lip for a minute, before turning to look at Rick.

"Can I ask you something?" He said, still unsure of himself.

Rick nodded.

"Go ahead."

"Well...I wanted to ask how you met Lori. How did you guys end up dating? Because, I really like Someone. Well, Maggie actually.But I'm not sure she feels the same..." he trailed off.

"Me too!" Jesus exclaimed.  
"I like someone, but I'm not sure how to tell them..."

Rick tried to hide his laughter by coughing. These two had it bad.

"You guys really shouldn't ask me for relationship advice. Lori and I ended up together after a one night stand. I was at a bar, we were both drunk, and it just kind of happened. A few weeks later she told me she was pregnant. And well, I felt bad. So I married her, and we had Carl." He finished.

"That's all I have to do? Sleep with her?" Glenn exclaimed.

Rick snorted.

"I'm not saying that."

"Did you love her?" Jesus asked Rick, somewhat hesitantly. He wasn't sure if that was crossing the line.

Rick looked thoughtful.

"At times, I think." He responded.  
"But she cheated on me, and I really didn't care. Yeah, she was my friend. I was upset when she died. But I don't think that's love."

"I don't think I really know what love means, anymore." Glenn said.

"I think it means, that you're making a commitment. If you love someone in this new world, you have to be willing to give your life. Because you'll probably have to at some point. To love them unconditionally, because you're both going to snap at each other at times. Now more than ever. You have to know how to work together. Know their strengths and weaknesses, and how they compliment yours. That's what love means." Jesus said.

Rick smiled a little.

"And you're in love?" He asked.

"Head over heals." Jesus stated.

*****

The group found an abandoned CVS.  
Only one problem. It had about 12 walkers. But it looked well stocked, and they needed to get in there.

"We can't take them on all at once..." Glenn muttered.

Rick glanced at the unlocked door.

"I have an idea. We open the door, let one out at a time. Kill them one at a time. I can use the knife while you two hold the door shut." He suggested.

Jesus shrugged.

"Sounds good to me."

So that's exactly what they did.

 

When the store was clear, they spit up.

Glenn pulled Rick to the side when Jesus walked away. He looked concerned.

"When Jesus said he was in love earlier... you don't think he meant with Maggie, do you?" He asked.

Rick laughed quietly.

"It's Daryl."

"What?"

"He's in love with Daryl."

Glenn looked surprised.

"Oh. Alright." He said, relieved.

They split up and began looking for anything useful.

****

Daryl and T- dog went hunting all day. Father Gabriel was repulsed that they brought dead animals into his church, and skinned them there. But he didn't dare say anything.

It was night time, and the people that had went out were still not back yet. Michonne had woken up, and she felt much better after drinking and eating. She was trying to convince Hershel that Maggie and Beth were okay. Carol listened, sympathetic. Having a kid nowadays was hard. You were constantly terrified for their safety.

Daryl was still exhausted. He had barely slept the night before, since he had taken watch. Carol sat next to him, talking to him quietly while others started to go to bed.

"You know, all that blood on your face looks really good on you. It brings out your eyes." She teased.

She got no words in response, just a glare.

"Can't you wash your face?" She asked. "Or do you need Jesus to come back and help you?"

She smirked. Oh, she knew all about the two of them. She saw and heard them talking last night, and there was definitely something going on.

Daryl immediately became defensive.

"What are you talking about. Of course I don't need him." He spat.

"Mhmmm...." she hummed.  
"You should try to get some sleep, Daryl."

Daryl, still feeling embarrassed, was glad to have an excuse to get away.

****

Daryl was dreaming.

_He was laying in bed next to Paul._

_"Get up!" He said, poking Paul in the face._

_"Nooooo.." Paul groaned. "I want to stay in bed with you!"_

_He wrapped his arms around Daryl, and put his head on his chest._

" _Do you have to argue with me EVERY morning?" Daryl complained._

_"Hmmmm...." Jesus said, pretending to think about it. "Yep!"_

_Daryl shook his head._

_"Fine. Ten more minutes, but that's it." He firmly stated._

_"Thanks, love." Jesus whispered, closing his eyes._

 

Daryl woke up sweating. It was just a dream. It wasn't real. And he most certainly didn't want it to be real. It was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. He was just thinking about what Carol had said earlier, that was it.

*****

"I've always wanted a convertible." Glenn said, as they drove back to the church.

They found the car and hot wired it, and it was a pretty sweet ride, Jesus had to admit.

They arrived back to the church, where Beth and Maggie waited with some basic medical supplies. They had also found some more weapons, and everyone felt much safer. Rick informed Gabriel that he was pretty sure he had found a place to stay, and they would leave soon. Gabriel didn't seem happy, much to Rick's surprise.

They unloaded their new supplies, and everyone took a much needed break.

Well, besides Jesus. He waited until everyone was asleep. Rick had decided that they didn't need to keep watch tonight. He seemed to trust Gabriel would not hurt them.

He quietly snuck out the church doors, and was on his way.

Daryl however, had not been asleep. He watched through narrowed eyes as Paul snuck out. His curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to follow the younger man.

He crept behind Paul for awhile. Paul stopped at a tree that had a ladder, then started to climb. He was making slow progress, as he could only use one hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" Daryl snapped, making Paul jump.

He almost fell off the ladder, and Daryl realized that was the worst possible moment to call him out.

Paul relaxed a little when he saw it was Daryl.

"I found this treehouse when I was out on the run. I wanted to come here, just get some alone time, you know?" He explained.

Daryl frowned.

"It's not safe, to go out alone." He said.

Paul glared at him.

"You do it all the time."

"Not at night." Daryl argued.

Jesus sighed.

"Fine. Then come sit with me for awhile. I'm not going back yet."

Daryl agreed. He hated the small space of the church.

He climbed the ladder, and sat next to Paul.

Paul was looking out the treehouse window.

"The stars look pretty." He commented.

Daryl flinched as as a memory flashed through his mind.

" _Daryl, come look at the moon with me!" Paul begged, sitting on a front porch swing. Daryl rolled his eyes, but sat next to Paul anyway._

_"The least you can do, is sit with me tonight." Jesus said, sounding a little irritated._

_Daryl's eyes softened._

" _I'll make it up to you." He promised._

_Jesus looked skeptical._

_"How?" He asked._

_Daryl thought for a moment._

_"For you, I would steal the stars." He whispered._

 

"Daryl, are you okay? You zoned out for a minute there." Jesus said, looking concerned.

"I'm fine." Daryl snapped.

He was confused. That had never happened. Maybe he DID want it to happen. Or maybe he was just going insane.

There was a low voice that whispered in his ear.

"Someday, all the love you've given away, will find its way back, and finally stay." It purred.

He shuddered.

That was it then, insane it is. Maybe he was just overly tired. Yes, that must be it. You can hallucinate and think weird things once you got too tired. Daryl stared out the window, trying to reassure himself, and he didn't notice that Jesus was staring at him, because he had heard the voice too.


	10. Chapter 10

  
It was snowing. Hard. Winter had finally come, and now the group was stuck in the church. Rick had lived in Georgia his whole life, and he had never seen it snow like this. They usually only got an inch or two at most. So when the group got snowed in, everyone was feeling kind of bitter. Out of all the times this could have happened, it was happening NOW? They would be stuck here a few more days, and none of them really had any experience with snow. At least there was a fireplace in the back of the church, and they had enough supplies to live comfortably for the next few days.

When Daryl learned he wasn't allowed to go hunting for the next few days, he became very irritable, and everyone tried to avoid him. He sat in the corner, scowling at anyone who tried to talk to him, while sharpening a knife. Even Jesus left him alone, knowing how he was while in one of his moods.

Jesus usually hated sitting in one place for a long time, but he didn't really mind today. His wrist was killing him, and he was glad for the excuse to rest.  
Rick and Michonne were arguing over something, Jesus wasn't sure of what. It sounded like they were fighting over a protein bar, and he groaned.

"I'm too sober for this shit." Daryl mumbled, from across the church.

Jesus had to agree. Being stuck here with everyone was kind of miserable, even if he enjoyed relaxing. Father Gabriel certainly wasn't helping either. He knelt in front of a cross, beginning for forgiveness for everyone's sins.

Beth sat in a pew by herself, and Jesus decided to join her. He sat down next to her quietly.

"How are you doing?" He asked.

"Better, now that you're here. Im awfully bored." She said, frowning slightly.

Jesus let out a small sigh.

"I'm getting sick of all this gloom and doom. Can't people just be happy? Can't things go our way for once?"

"Things could be worse." She replied with a shrug.

Yes, he supposed they could. If there's one thing he learned, it was that life could always get worse.

Beth leaned against him.

"Tell me a story." She said.

Jesus laughed a little.

"okay.... let me think for a minute.... oh! I have a good one." He began.

"One day, when I was in college, I was really craving some Taco Bell. So I took my best friend Rose with me. We walked there, ordered our food, and started to sit down to eat. When I opened my bag, I had the wrong order. I don't know why, but I got really mad, and started throwing burritos at the person working the register. I guess I was just really hungry and in a bad mood. That's the story of how I got banned from Taco Bell."

Beth was laughing quietly.

"Are you banned from all Taco Bell's, or just that one?" She asked.

Jesus made a face.

"I don't know. That's a good question."

"Tell me another story." She demanded.

Carol, who had been listening to the first story, sat down on the floor in front of Jesus.

"Yeah, tell us some more stories. I have nothing else to do." She said with a smile.

"One time, I needed to go to the bank, and it was about to close. So I was running to the bank, and right when I opened the doors, a man wearing a mask screamed,

"EVERYONE PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"

Yes. I walked into a fucking bank robbery. I had to stand there for ten minutes with my hands up, until the guy got his money and left. Then the police came, and I had to stay there for THREE HOURS while they questioned everyone. Long story short, don't go to the bank five minutes before they're about to close."

Jesus looked up, and was surprised to see Rick and Michonne sitting next to Carol, listening intently.

So that was how the group started swapping stories for a few hours. Daryl didn't add anything, but Jesus had seen him watching with curiosity.

Beth had her head on Paul's shoulder, and Glenn had plucked up the courage to put his arm around Maggie.

Jesus smiled as Rick told the story of how he had woken up from his coma, and entered a different world.

This felt like family. This felt right.

****

Father Gabriel glanced around the room nervously. The group that had stayed with him was now getting ready to leave. It had been a few days since the snowstorm, and they wanted to find somewhere better to stay. He had grown to like them, and was trying to figure out how to get them to stay. He hadn't left the church since the outbreak had happened. He didn't know how to kill the "walkers". And yes, he had enough supplies to stay in the church a few more weeks, but what would he do when his supplies ran out? He would surely die.  
With a burst of courage, he grabbed Rick's arm.

"Please, take me with you." He begged, knowing he could not convince them to stay.

Rick looked at him carefully.

"Why should we take you?" He questioned.

"Because if you don't, I'll die. Please." Gabriel said, growing desperate.

"We don't have time to watch you. We're not going to be your protection." Rick said harshly.

"Just teach me how to survive. That's all I'm asking. You stayed in my church a few days, and I helped you. Can you not help me in return?" Gabriel asked.

Rick closed his eyes, and sighed wearily.

"Fine." He agreed.

*****

The group walked through the snowy woods. None of them were really thrilled to be out in the cold, but they were all sick of the church. They needed someplace bigger to stay. Some place they could start over.

Much to Glenn's dismay, they left the red convertible at the church. Rick claimed they needed to approach the base quietly, just in case the people there were hostile. They would watch the base for a while before going in.

Beth walked next to Jesus, asking him questions about the base. He told her all he knew, which wasn't much.

T-dog walked silently next to Daryl, listening to Jesus talk to Beth. He turned to Daryl smirked.

"How long do you give em?" He asked, gesturing towards Jesus and Beth.

"What?" Daryl asked.

T-dog rolled his eyes.

"Jesus and Beth. When do you think they'll get together?" He whispered, glancing at the two to make sure they weren't listening.

Daryl felt an emotion flash, but he wasn't sure what it was. It was gone before he could identify what it was. He was about to respond, when a memory flashed through his mind.

* _Daryl entered the gates of Alexandria. He had just gotten back from a run with Rick. Much to his annoyance, Rick had informed him that Jesus would be staying with him for a few nights. Jesus had stayed with him before, and every time, it ended in disaster. A fight. Things were broken. Yelling. Tense silence._ _Out of all the people, why him? He drove him crazy. He talked so much that Daryl couldn't hear his own thoughts. He was too flirty. He never said the right thing. His hair was always so... clean. He was always too perfect. It was infuriating._

 _Exhausted_ _from being out all day, Daryl was ready to go home and crash on the couch. He opened his front door, glad to finally be home. He walked into the living room, but what he saw made him turn around and walk out again. Jesus was on the couch, straddling some guy Daryl had never seen, and they were making out. Hard. Jesus glanced up and made eye contact with Daryl._

" _Shit." He muttered._

_Daryl was walking way._

_"Daryl, wait!" He called._  
  
_He fumbled to put his shirt back on, and was chasing after Daryl, who was walking across the front yard briskly._

 _Jesus reached out and grabbed Daryl's arm_.

" _Wait!" He panted. "Listen I'm sorry-"_

_"Don't apologize. I don't care, Paul." Daryl said with a glare._

_"I think you do..." Paul said quietly._

_"I don't." Daryl argued._

" _Are you sure?" Paul asked, taking a step forward._

_"Shut up and leave." Daryl growled._

_Jesus took another step forward._

_"Make me." He hissed._

_Then their lips were crashing together, and neither of them cared if anyone saw them. *_

  
Daryl's eyes went wide. What the hell was that? T-dog was giving him a concerned look. Daryl ignored it, and he stormed in front of Jesus and Beth. He couldn't stand to look at them anymore.

****

Rick knelt behind a bush, looking at the building in front of him.

"This is it?" He asked, turning to Jesus.

Jesus nodded.

The entire group watched the building for a few minutes. There were no guards, and no sign of anyone in the building at all. The front gates were shut though, so Jesus figured that there were still people there.

"Maybe I should go check it out?" Jesus suggested.

If Andrew was there, he would recognize him. He was worried if all of them just stormed in there, they would end up getting shot.

After he explained this, Rick grudgingly agreed to let him go check it out. Daryl almost protested, almost said that he would go with Paul, but he bit his tongue. If Paul got himself shot, he didn't care. Maybe if he got shot, it would he better, because then maybe he could start thinking clearly. He had saved that prick more than once already. He owed him nothing. That's what he told himself.

Jesus almost asked Daryl to come with him, but he was glaring at him intently, so he decided against it. He crept quietly towards the front gates, just waiting for a guard to step out of the shadows and shoot him. No one came.  
The front gate was closed, but unlocked. He pushed it open, still feeling suspicious. He walked in, and closed the gates behind him. He was in the building in a matter of seconds. It was eerily silent, and he felt uneasy. He slowly walked around, weapons ready. He stopped in front of a door that was cracked open slightly, and he cautiously pushed it open. The sight that greeted him made him gag. Hanging from the ceiling were 7 bodies, all swinging around as walkers, and attached to a noose. He stumbled back out of the room, and started walking back to Rick, weapons hanging at his sides. He was no longer nervous that someone would come out of nowhere, trying to kill him.

Daryl watched Jesus walk out of the building, his weapons limp against his sides, his face pale. He fought the urge to ask him what was wrong.

Jesus went to Rick, and whispered something in his ear. Rick frowned, but nodded. Rick pulled Glenn and T-dog to the side, and they talked in hushed voices.

Rick turned back to the group.

"Alright. It's all clear. Beth, Maggie, Michonne and Carol, you all start setting up our supplies. Hershel, Daryl, and Jesus, you need to explore the rest of the building. Make sure there's no walkers, and check for any useful supplies. Glenn, T-dog, Gabriel and I.... have something to take care of." He finished giving orders with a grimace.

Rick didn't need to hide the bodies from the others, but there was no real reason they needed to know. Everyone was messed up enough as it was.

No one asked what he needed to take care of. Gabriel looked extremely nervous, but he didn't protest, or ask any questions.

The group walked into the building, examining their new home.

Carol led her group away, and they started setting up a supply room, and looked for places to sleep. There was a room with cots and sleeping bags, and Carol breathed a sigh of relief. They wouldn't have to go out and look for sleeping supplies now. They began spreading out the bags, and Rick led his group away.

Jesus had given him directions to the room with walkers, and they found it quickly. Rick stood on a chair, stabbing the walkers and throwing them to the ground with some difficulty. Glenn and Gabriel were in charge of dragging the bodies out of the building. Gabriel was gagging, and trying not to cry. Glenn rolled his eyes as Gabriel desperately whispered a prayer. T-dog helped Rick take care of the remaining walkers.

Hershel and Daryl followed Jesus as he led them down a random hallway. He was abnormally quiet, and Daryl wondered what he had seen. Hershel looked concerned, but he didn't ask. They went through, examining every room carefully, looking for anything useful.

****

Rick called a meeting later that night. Jesus quietly told everyone that they had found a small room that was filled with canned foods and weapons. He didn't look happy, despite the good news.

Carol explained the current room situation. There would be two people per room. Everyone was relieved. They all had their own beds, and at least a little privacy. Sharing a room with one person was better than the whole group.

Rick stood up.

"Alright. I think it's best if I decide the room arrangements." He announced.

Their were protests, but his glare made everyone fall silent.

"Okay. First of all, Carl and I will share a room. I'll pair up the rest of you.  
Glenn and Hershel.  
Maggie and Beth.  
Michonne and Carol.  
T-dog and Gabriel.  
Daryl and Jesus."

Daryl glared.

"No." He said.

He couldn't share a room with Paul. Not with these dreams, or hallucinations, or whatever they were.

Rick looked at him wearily.

"Daryl. You're only sleeping there. You'll be fine."

Daryl stood up and walked out of the room, annoyed.

Jesus sighed, and Rick looked at him sympathetically.

"He'll come around." He assured Jesus.

Glenn looked at him with Envy. Why couldn't Rick put him with Maggie? At least Jesus got to be with someone he loved.

***  
After awhile, everyone went their separate ways into their rooms.

Glenn sat on his sleeping bag, and Hershel stared at him intently. Glenn shifted uncomfortably.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Hershel asked.

Glenn fought the urge to groan. And there it was. The talk.

***

In the next room over, Maggie sat next to Beth.

Beth smiled at her sister.

"We haven't shared a room in ages!" She exclaimed.

Maggie laughed warmly.

"I know. So. I notice you've been spending a lot of time with Jesus..." she said quietly.

Beth frowned.

"And you've been spending a lot of time with Glenn." She retorted.

****

Michonne laid down on her sleeping bag, and Carol mimicked her.

"So, are we supposed to be best friends or something now that we share a room?" Michonne asked.

Carol shrugged.

"Probably. But that wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?"

****

Rick watched Carl get into his sleeping bag.

"Goodnight, Dad." Carl whispered.

Rick wished that he could still tuck Carl in, like he used to do, but he had grown far to old. He smiled sadly. The older he got, the more he looked like his mother.

"Goodnight, Carl." He responded.

****

Gabriel was trying to act like he wasn't terrified of T-dog.

"So, how'd you like touching your first walker?" T-dog asked.

Gabriel shuddered, and T-dog snorted.

"It's only gonna get worse." He assured .

***

Jesus walked into the room he and Daryl now shared. Daryl sat in the corner of the room, looking out the window. Jesus laid on his sleeping bag silently. He was about to doze off, when Daryl asked,

"What did you see earlier that bothered you so much?"

Daryl wasn't sure what made him ask it. Curiosity, he guessed.

Jesus cringed.

"I don't really want to talk about it now, Daryl." He whispered.

Daryl snorted.

"Of course you don't."

The two men sat in tense silence.

It took far too long for Daryl to fall asleep, and when he did, he had dreams about a life that didn't exist.  
The dream was fading, and he chased after it as it fell through his fingers. He didn't know exactly what he was chasing. Something comforting. Something that felt like... home.

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

  
It was odd, just sitting there, having nothing to do. They had enough supplies, so they didn't need to go on a run. It was winter, so they couldn't try to grow plants.

For the first time in forever, Jesus slept in. He woke up to snow gently falling outside his window, and an empty room. He cringed as he stood up. Sleeping on the ground really was awful.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and went to find something to do.  
Carol and Beth sat at a table, eating cereal.

"Good morning!" Beth said cheerily, as Jesus sat next to her.

"Good morning." He replied, less enthusiastic.

Carol eyed him carefully.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Hm? Oh, fine, fine." He replied distractedly, looking around the room.

Carol sighed and pushed a bowl of cereal in front of him.

He picked at it, not feeling very hungry.

Daryl entered the room, blood spattered, crossbow slung over his shoulder, hair wet from snow.

He sat next to Carol and grumbled,

"I hate the snow."

Carol smiled sympathetically.

"I'm guessing that hunting didn't go well then?"

He didn't answer, just shrugged.

Jesus frowned as he examined Daryl. He looked exhausted. Dark circles hung under his bloodshot eyes. He looked dazed, and sat slouched over, leaning against the table for support.

"Daryl?" He said, hesitantly.

Daryl looked up at him, glaring.

"Are you okay?" Jesus asked quietly.

"M'fine." He spat.

Daryl had dreams all last night. He had slept poorly, waking up every half hour. It didn't help that all his dreams were about Paul fucking Rovia. Now Paul was now looking at him, blue eye wide and concerned. Daryl couldn't stop thinking about the dreams. Why were they happening? He would never do the things he had done in his dreams with Paul.

Jesus turned away reluctantly and looked at Beth.

"You know... I like the snow. Do you want to go on a walk or something?" He asked her quietly.

Her face lit up, and Daryl turned away. He abruptly stood up, and left the table.

Jesus looked up, concerned. Carol patted his arm.

"I'll go talk to him." She said. "Go on your walk."

Beth smiled, dragging Jesus away from the table as he stared after Daryl.

****

Daryl walked to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He didn't know why he was so angry.

There was a quiet knock at the door. He was prepared to tell Jesus to go away, but then he heard Carol say,

"It's me."

He softened a little.

He got up and opened the door.

"Can I come in?" She asked.

Daryl gave a slight nod, and sat down next to the window. He could see Jesus and Beth throwing snowballs at each other, and he scowled.

Carol put a hand on his bicep.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" She asked quietly.

Daryl shrugged her arm off.

"Nothin is wrong." He growled.

"We both know that's not true." She stated.

Daryl looked at her for a long moment, before looking back out the window.

"I haven't been sleeping well lately." He admitted.

She smiled a little. This was progress.

"Why not?" She asked.

He was silent for a minute, and Carol was starting to think he wouldn't answer, when he whispered,

"Every time I close my eyes, I see something I don't want to."

"What do you mean? Like you see walkers, or people dying?" She asked, confused.

He shook his head.

"No. It's... it's like this different life. It's hard to explain." He said, feeling kind of stupid.

He shouldn't have brought this up. Carol didn't care, she wouldn't understand.

"Oh, so like a life without walkers?" She asked.

"Kinda." He was tired of trying to explain.

"Daryl, it's natural to dream of something you want. I think we all dream of the things we desire." She said soothingly.

He stood up angrily.

"You don't get it! I don't... I don't want this!" He yelled.

Carol flinched, and Daryl felt slightly guilty.

He left the room before he could mess anything else up.

****

Jesus laughed as he hit Beth square in the face with a snowball.

Maggie and Glenn had joined them outside, and they were having a snowball fight, boys against girls.

Glenn gave Jesus a high five as Beth wiped the snow away from her face.

Carl was watching them, amusement clear on his face. Maggie tried to get him to join the fight, but he politely declined.

Hershel sat inside, watching his two daughters from the window. He smiled. It didn't usually snow so much in Georgia, and he hadn't seen his girls play in the snow since they were little.

Michonne and Rick were sitting at the guard tower, keeping watch. They talked quietly as the snow fell around them.

Jesus couldn't help but notice how closely Rick and Michonne were sitting. Also, Rick had made it clear that only one person needed to be on guard duty. He smiled a little, glad to see that they both looked happy together. Jesus let his guard down while watching Rick, and Maggie took the opportunity to dump some snow down the back of his coat.

He flinched as the cold hit his back, an he put his hands up.

"Okay, okay! I surrender!" He called.

"What??" Glenn protested, followed by Maggie and Beth yelling that they had won.

"I need to take a break." Jesus said, going to sit down next to Carl.

Glenn turned to Carl with a smirk.

"That means you can join me." He said.

Carl rolled his eyes.

"Fineee." He agreed.

Glenn patted his back, and Jesus watched the fight continue.

*****

Daryl paced around the building, feeling restless. He was tired of people trying to talk to him. He looked outside, where everyone was enjoying the snow. Paul sat by himself, and Daryl shook his head. No. He wasn't going out there. He didn't want to talk to Paul. He hated the snow. There was no reason he should go out there.

***

Paul grinned when Daryl sat next to him.

"I thought you hated the snow?" He asked.

"I do." Daryl replied.

"Why are you out here, in the snow then?" Jesus asked, laughing.

"Because you like the snow." Daryl replied, without thinking.

Fuck. He hadn't just said that. He looked over at Paul, who looked very surprised for a second.

Jesus laughed nervously.

"Yeah. I guess that's why everyone's out here. I suggested we go out and everyone followed."

"Yeah." Daryl replied.

There was silence.

"Something's bothering you." Jesus said.

Daryl said nothing.

"There were bodies. They killed themselves. Andrew and.... some others. A few kids." Jesus whispered.

"What?" Daryl asked, looking up.

"You asked me yesterday what had bothered me." Paul explained.

"Oh." Daryl said.

For a second, Daryl almost told him what was wrong. He decided against it though, so they sat in silence, watching the snow fall.

****

"What do you think they're talking about?" Michonne asked Rick.

She could see Daryl and Jesus sitting together, looking solemn.

"I don't know. Why?" Rick said, with little interest in the subject.

"It's just... Daryl's been acting kind of odd lately, don't you think?"

"Hmm." Rick hummed. "Maybe."

Michonne sighed, and they changed the subject.

****

Jesus decided to go out alone for awhile. He needed to walk through the woods, clear his mind.

The cold air stung his face, but he ignored it.

He had left without telling Rick, or anyone else. Everyone was asleep, besides Daryl, who was on guard duty. Since he was gone, he wouldn't notice Jesus was out of bed. He had crept through the shadows, climbing the gate quietly, so Daryl wouldn't see him leaving.

He was walking through the dark woods, when he smelled smoke. Following the smell, he eventually came to a clearing. Seeing a fire, he hid behind a bush, and looked around at a tiny camp.

He smiled when he saw who was sitting next to the fire, keeping watch. Oh, he could have some fun with this.

***

Eugene glanced up as he heard a twig crack. His eyes went wide, and he would admit it, he was terrified.

Something slipped next to him in the shadows.

"W-who's there?" He stuttered.

Jesus tried not to laugh. This was too easy.

"Your worst nightmare." He said, in the deepest voice he could.

Eugene looked even more terrified, if that was possible.

Jesus crept slowly around Eugene, and when his back was turned, Jesus snatched his backpack and took off running.

He could hear Eugene shrieking behind him, and footsteps following in pursuit. He ran faster, towards the front gates of building.

He crashed out of the woods, and Daryl stood up, crossbow in hand.

"DONT SHOOT!"Jesus yelled.

Daryl lowered his crossbow.

"Paul? What-" he started.

"OPEN THE GATE! OPEN THE GATE!!" He yelled, cutting Daryl off.

Daryl opened the gate, confused.

"Shut it! Quick!" Paul whispered.

They could hear voices in the distance.

Jesus slammed the gate shut, and tackled Daryl into the shadows. He groaned as he landed on his wrist, which still wasn't healed.

"What the hell?" Daryl grumbled.

Jesus shushed him and put a hand over his mouth.

Rosita and Abraham came into sight, swearing.

"We lost him." Rosita said, annoyed.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. As long as he doesn't come back." Abraham muttered.

They turned around and went back into the woods.

Jesus breathed a sigh of relief, and Daryl shoved his hand away, glaring.

"Do you care to explain what the fuck just happened?" He hissed.

"Ummm. No?" 

Daryl growled and was about to respond, but Paul took off, running towards the building.

Daryl ran after him. They ran through the building, until Daryl had Jesus cornered in the kitchen.

"What's in the bag, Paul?" Daryl snarled.

Jesus had no clue how he was going to get out of this one.

He held his hands up.

"Alright, alright. I'll open the bag." He said, praying there was something good in there. Daryl would kill him if there wasn't.

He unzipped the bag, and turned it over.

A pile of chocolate bars fell out.

"Umm..." Jesus started nervously. "I was hungry?"

Daryl lunged at him.

"YOU RISKED YOUR LIFE FOR SOME CHOCOLATE?" He hissed.

Jesus, who was in defense mode, grabbed the first thing he saw at threw it.

It so happened to be a fork. It bounced off of Daryl's chest harmlessly.

Paul picked up more forks on the counter and continued throwing.

Daryl covered his face with his arms, forks flying around him.

"Are you throwing forks at me??" He asked in disbelief.

"You're trying to kill me!" Paul defended.

"Stop that! Come here." Daryl demanded.

"No!" Jesus argued, still clutching a plastic fork.

"Just come here and drop the fork!" Daryl said, exasperated.

"No! You're gonna hit me!" He said, backing up.

"I'm not going to hit you!"

"If you come near me, I'm going to kill you!" Jesus threatened.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"With what? A fork?"

Paul sighed, lowering the fork.

"Fine. You got me." He muttered.

Daryl didn't know what to say at this point. It was so ridiculous, he wanted to laugh, but at the same time he was still angry.

"I can't believe you risked your life for some chocolate bars.." He muttered, breaking the tension.

Jesus shrugged.

"Me either. But I'm still alive and I have chocolate bars now. So do you want one?" He asked, holding a bar out to Daryl.

Daryl glared, but took it.

"I should punch you." He said, even as the anger drained out of him.

"Probably." Jesus agreed.

"I won't, if you promise to never do something like that again. It was stupid."

Jesus looked down to hide his smile.

"I promise." He said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had some trouble updating. Here's a nice long chapter, since I kept you guys waiting so long! :)

_  
Daryl was running through the woods in a blind panic. His father was chasing him, a knife in hand. Daryl's shirt caught on a branch, forcing him to rip it off over his head. He continued running, his scars visible for the world to see._

_His father was screaming,_

_"How could you do this to me, Daryl? I raised you to be a man!"_

_Blood started falling from the sky. It dripped down Daryl's body, sticky and dark red. It filled his mouth. He started choking. He couldn't breathe._

_The sky turned black, and gravestones came from the ground. He ran on, tripping over graves and corpses._

_He ran until he saw an open space in the middle of the woods. There were no trees, nothing. He ran to the clearing, and Jesus appeared. Stone Walls began to close around the clearing, threatening to suffocate them both._

_Daryl could hear his father screaming from the other side of the wall._

_"I'll kill you!" His father threatened, his voice cracking and raw._

_A flame appeared next to Daryl, and smoke filled his lungs. He picked up the flame and threw it. An explosion shook the ground, fire engulfed his vision. He coughed and pulled Jesus closer to him. Jesus stared blankly as the world caught fire.  
Daryl had set fire to the world around him, but he didn't let one flame touch Paul._

_The flames danced over Daryl's skin, leaving new marks and scars. It was hot, so very hot, and Jesus felt so cold. It felt like he was burning and freezing all at once._

_"He is your opposite, his strength to your weakness. The world around you will burn, and only he can stop it." A voice whispered._

_Jesus was screaming, and Daryl was frozen. He couldn't move, couldn't speak._

_He watched as Jesus fell limp to the ground. His body turned black, and started melting into the earth. The fire died, and he stood in the middle of the woods once more._

_A terrible screeching filled his ears.  
Jesus walked towards him, now a walker, a corpse, rotting away._

_"You killed me!" Jesus was screaming. "YOU KILLED ME."_

_Daryl's eyes went wide, and he backed away._

_Jesus's large blue eyes were now completely black. The wind whirled around him. A music box appeared, playing carnival music as Jesus continued to shriek._

_Jesus was the ghost haunting his dreams, with his sad song and murderous eyes_.

_"I had to kill you" Daryl whispered.  
"I had to kill you, because you're killing me." _

 

Daryl woke up to someone shaking him roughly.

"Daryl! Wake up!" Paul whispered frantically.

Daryl's heart was pounding. He was drenched in sweat. He pushed Paul away, his hands shaking.

Daryl was breathing heavily. Jesus reached out a hand, looking worried.

"Don't." Daryl rasped.

Paul retreated back to his own bed, knowing he would not be able forget what Daryl had said in his sleep.

*****

The sun began to stream through Jesus's bedroom window. Daryl had fallen back asleep after an hour of tossing and turning. Jesus however, was not so lucky. He rubbed his bleary eyes, feeling sluggish and groggy.

He quietly got out of bed and got dressed, carful not to wake Daryl.

His bare feet padded against the freezing concrete floor, and he shivered.

He sat down at the dinning room table, and looked out the snowy window, listening to the clock tick. Jesus was growing more and more worried for Daryl. Daryl had been so strange lately. His mood changed drastically from day to day. Sometimes, he greeted Paul as a friend, sometimes as an enemy. As a result, Paul was remarkably confused. He used to be able to read Daryl so easily, but now it was proving difficult. What had happened? It made him wonder if he and Daryl were really meant to be.

He sighed as a memory danced across his mind.

_  
Daryl sat down next to Paul in the grass. It was late at night, and the stars were shining brightly. Maybe it was a good thing that they had no electricity, at times like these. Growing up in New York City, Paul had never seen stars like this._

_Daryl was looking at him, worry etched into the lines on his face._

_"What's wrong?" Jesus asked gently, intertwining their fingers together._

_"Nothing. Just, we lost another guy on the run today." Daryl said._

_Jesus rubbed his back soothingly._

_"I know it's hard." He whispered._

_Daryl looked away._

_"He had a girlfriend. And every time I see someone die... well, I just think about what will happen to.... us." He mumbled._

_Jesus sighed._

_"Daryl. Listen. We've talked about this. It's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere. And if I do, know that you can always find me in the next life."_

_"I'm not worried about the next life." Daryl admitted._

_"What do you mean?" Jesus asked._

_"Paul. I'm so worried you're going to leave, and I'm going to be alone. And I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore." He rasped brokenly._

_Jesus took a sharp breath. Was that really what he thought? He wrapped his arms around Daryl._

_"Hey, listen Daryl. Do you see the stars? As long as you can see the stars, I'm yours. Until every star in the galaxy burns out, I'm yours."_

  
Jesus closed his eyes. Was it supposed to hurt this much?

****  
Rick sat down next to Jesus. He took in the man's long messy hair, tired looking eyes, exhausted posture.

"Rough night?" He asked.

Paul laughed quietly.

"You could say that."

Jesus rubbed his temples, a slight headache forming.

"How are things with Daryl?" Rick asked.

Jesus's head snapped up, and he sighed.

"I don't know Rick. Sometimes, I feel like I'm making progress, then everything starts to fall apart."

Rick frowned, thinking.

"I'm going to tell you something. Michonne and I, well, we've grown pretty close. I know that for us, talking about our thoughts always helps. Maybe if you and Daryl had some time alone..." Rick trailed off.

Jesus shook his head, mildly frustrated.

"I don't think that will help. Well, maybe. But I feel like we already have a lot of one on one time. He's not really a talker, you know?"

"Yes, I know. Have you tried getting him drunk?" Rick asked, a smile playing at his lips.

Jesus laughed quietly.

"He's... oh, what's the word. The opposite of a lightweight? I think it would take a gallon of alcohol to take that man down."

Rick looked serious all the sudden.

"Well there you go, problem solved. We just need to find a gallon of alcohol."

There was a beat of silence, and then they both laughed. It took several minutes for them to stop laughing.

"Okay, but in all seriousness, maybe you should go on some type of mission or something together. There's nothing like a near death experience to being two people together. You know, fight some walkers, stuff like that." Rick suggested.

"Maybe it would work, but what's the mission?"

Rick shrugged.

"I could ask him to go over the mountains, to see what's on the other side. That would actually be useful. You'd go with him, keep him from dying and all that."

Jesus smiled.

"Thanks, Rick."

****

"No."

"Daryl, come on. You two work well together! Please."

Rick was trying to convince Daryl to go across the mountains.

"I already have to share a room with him, what more do you want?" Daryl spat.

"It will only be a few days! Besides, you should get to know Jesus better. I think you two would get along if you just gave him a chance. And after the trip, if you decide you still hate him, you can switch rooms." Rick offered, hoping this all went according to plan.

Daryl glared at the ground, looking conflicted. He didn't want to go on this trip, but maybe the dreams would stop if he didn't have to share a room with Paul....

"Fine." He agreed.

****

The cold winter air swirled around Daryl and Paul. Paul was leading the way, and Daryl was scowling at him. His long brown hair was blowing around him, his bright blue eyes were a glowing contrast against the snow, and his trench coat flew around in the wind. Daryl hated it.

Surprisingly, Jesus didn't talk much. He wanted to give Daryl a few hours to think. Besides, he had taken a few bottles of whisky and cigarettes from the storage room for later. Rick claimed that with these two items, Jesus would have a secured spot in Daryl's heart. Jesus couldn't really argue. The last time he had won Daryl's heart, it had been from the mixture of Cigarettes and Jealousy.

They reached the base of the mountains after walking for roughly two hours. Jesus had already lost feeling in most of his body, and he wondered if this had been a good idea.

The sky was spitting an icy rain mixture, and it was _lovely_. 

Daryl flexed his hand, trying to bring back the feeling so he could light a cigarette. Jesus watched him struggle for a second, before stepping forward.

"Here, let me help." He said gently.

Jesus had thick leather gloves on, so his hands were not quite so frozen.

He took the cigarette from His freezing hands, and put it in between Daryl's cracked lips. Daryl's breath hitched slightly. Jesus took the lighter, and lit the end of the cigarette. He stared into Daryl's eyes a moment longer than necessary, and Daryl scowled.

"I don't need your help." Daryl growled, breathing out smoke.

"I know you don't need my help, or want it. But you could really use it. Now come here." Jesus demanded.

Daryl glared and stayed glued to the same spot.

Jesus sighed, and went back to his backpack.

He came back a minute later with another pair of gloves.

"Put these on, will you? I don't need you getting frostbite."

Daryl snatched the gloves out of Jesus's hand, glaring all the while.

He tried to put the gloves on, but his numb hands refused to cooperate.

Jesus reached out, and gently slid the gloves over Daryl's hand.

Daryl's heart skipped a little. He was so close. Paul's warm breath tickled his cheek, and he pulled back abruptly.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Paul asked.

Daryl refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

***

The rain came down, drenching them. They climbed the steep hills, both of them out of breath and freezing. The fog was so thick they could barely see a foot in front of them.

Paul was shaking from the cold, and although Daryl wouldn't admit it, he was feeling concerned about the other man.

"Keep going, Paul. You'll be warmer if you keep moving. We can stop and find shelter soon, okay?" Daryl said.

It was very uncharacteristic of him, and if felt odd to say. He wasn't any good at comforting or motivating anyone.

Jesus didn't say anything, he just nodded, teeth chattering.

Daryl was struggling himself. He was used to physical pain. Used to the cold. Used to terrible weather conditions. But he was pushing the limits of what he could handle.

"D-Daryl... we need t-to stop." Paul whispered, lips blue.

Daryl was shaking, and he knew they needed to get warm.

"Okay. Do you see that small cave a few feet away? Let's go there." Daryl said.

They were close to the entrance of the cave, when Paul fell to his knees.

Daryl grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet.

"Oh no. You are not giving up now. Not after everything... not after everything we've been through."

Paul looked at him, face pale, eyes dead.

"I'm s-sorry." He whispered.

Daryl half carried him to the cave entrance, where they both collapsed.

Daryl flung his back pack off, and rummaged around until he found an extra set of clothes.

"Get out of your wet clothes. Put these on." Daryl demanded.

Paul tried to pull his shirt over his head, hands shaking. Daryl sighed, before moving to assist him.

He stripped Jesus quickly, before shoving dry clothes onto him.

"Thanks..." Jesus murmured.

"You needed help." Daryl stared, as he began changing into dry clothes himself.

The cave was dark, and they had no way of starting a fire, as all the wood around them was drenched.

The color gradually came back to Jesus's face, and he looked a little better.

Daryl, however, was not doing so well.  
His hands were shaking violently, and they were a bright shade of red. His soaked gloves had been thrown aside, as they were only making matters worse.

Jesus groaned. Well, Rick was right. Nothing like a near death experience, right? Yeah... right. They were going to die out here.

Jesus groaned.

"We're going to die alone out here."

Daryl turned to look at him, frowning.

"Yeah. Probably."

Jesus scooted closer to him.

"God, your hands! They look ready to fall off!" He exclaimed.

Without hesitating, he reached out and grabbed Daryl's freezing hands.

He ran his hands over them quickly, trying to create friction. Daryl had a sour look on his face, but he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry we're in this mess..." Jesus muttered. "I'm sorry you aren't back with the group, with your family."

Daryl looked at him.

"Yeah, well. I know I'm not the most enjoyable person to do this with. I'm sure you'd rather be with Beth." He replied, somewhat bitterly.

Jesus snorted.

"No, I'm glad you're here."

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it."

Daryl pulled his hands away.

"I, uh, I'm better. Thanks." He said awkwardly.

They sat at the cave entrance, watching the blizzard in front of them.

"I'm freezing." Jesus complained.

"Oh, I didn't notice. It's not like I was stuck in the freezing rain for hours with you or anything." Daryl bit back.

Jesus rolled his eyes.

"Look, on the bright side, I have whisky!" He exclaimed.

Daryl immediately perked up a little, and Jesus took a bottle from his backpack.

Daryl grabbed it and took a sip, relaxing as warmth spread through his chest.

Jesus frowned.

"Hey, share." He chastised.

Daryl shook his head.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because do you remember last time?"

Jesus made a face.

"I won't do that, alright? Now give me that."

He took the bottle from Daryl's hand, downing a few sips. He let out a content sigh as the warmth burned down his throat.

They sat there in silence drinking for a few minutes, when Daryl finally said,

"Okay. You've had enough."

Paul glared.

"But it's my whisky!" He protested.

"I'm cutting you off. I am not dealing with your drunk ass tonight. Or your hungover one in the morning." Daryl said firmly, making it clear there was no room for argument.

Jesus was slightly bitter, but he knew Daryl was right.

"Fine. I'm going to try and get some sleep."

He curled up on the rocky cave floor, and Daryl followed suit.

Paul stared at the ceiling for awhile, tossing and turning. He couldn't sleep. This was impossible. He was _freezing._

"Daryl?" He whispered.

"What." Daryl replied, feeling annoyed. He had almost fallen asleep... but it was so cold.

"I, well, um. It's really cold... could I..?" He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase his question.

He decided that his actions would speak where his words couldn't.

He scooted over, pressing his body close to Daryl's.

Daryl tensed.

"Is this okay? I just, I don't want us to die from hypothermia tonight."

Daryl grunted in response, and tensely wrapped his arms around Paul.

"You never speak of this, understand?" Daryl growled in his ear.

Paul shivered a little, and Daryl blamed it on the cold.

"Speak of what, the fact that you like to cuddle when it's cold?" Jesus teased.

Daryl glared and started to move away.

"Wait, Daryl. I'm kidding. It's really cold. Just come here."

Daryl reluctantly moved back slowly.

Paul buried his head into Daryl's neck, and he felt Daryl shudder. He smirked a little, knowing his neck was where Daryl was most sensitive.

"Goodnight, Daryl." He whispered, his breath hot against Daryl's neck.

"Night."

****

They woke up the next morning in a tangle of limbs. Daryl pushed Paul away and stood up.

Paul rubbed his eyes and cracked his back.

"Mmm. Nothing like waking up after sleeping on a pile of rocks." He said, smiling a little.

Daryl didn't smile back.

"We need to get moving." He replied gruffly.

Paul's smile faded a little, and he followed Daryl out of the cave.

It had stopped snowing and raining slush. Only the fog remained, but it was noticeably warmer.

"We'll have to be careful in this fog. We could easily get separated." Jesus pointed out.

Daryl nodded in agreement. His first thought was that it wouldn't be so bad to be separated from Paul, but he knew he wouldn't be able to leave Paul stranded out here alone.

Just then, something darted across Daryl's foot. He jumped, and looked down, pulling out his bow as he did so.

Jesus laughed.

"Relax, Daryl. It's just a cat!"

Daryl pulled an arrow back.

"Great, lunch." He muttered.

Jesus stepped in front of the small orange cat.

"Daryl, no! Don't shoot him!" He exclaimed.

Daryl let out a growl.

"You and your stupid soft heart! It's your biggest weakness. It's going to get you killed one day."

Jesus's eyes flashed with anger.

"Having a heart does NOT make you a weak person." He snarled. "In fact, I would say your lack of one is YOUR biggest weakness."

Daryl flinched as the voice in his mind repeated the words he had heard before in his dream.

 _"He is your opposite. He is the_ _strength to your weakness. The world around you will burn, and only he can stop it."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, Jesus has 6 weeks left. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos! <3

 

The two men continued up the mountain. They were mostly quiet, talking only occasionally. Jesus was still annoyed about the comment Daryl had made earlier. Why was it so bad to not want to kill an innocent animal? Why was it so bad to feel something once in awhile?

The fog had thickened, and Paul couldn't see his own hand. Luckily, as they got further up the mountain, the trees disappeared. They no longer had to worry about running into them. The ground was covered in giant chunks of rock, and they were making slow progress. It didn't help that they couldn't see how much further they had until the top.

Paul stared at the ground intently, trying to avoid tripping over the rocks around him. He was walking slowly, lost in thought, when he heard a crash behind him, followed by rocks crumbling down the mountain.

"Daryl?" He called. "Are you okay?"

"M'fine." Daryl assured. But Jesus could hear the strain in his voice.

"Stay there, I'm coming." Jesus ordered.

He walked through the fog, blindly trying to find Daryl. He walked for a few seconds before tripping over something on the ground. He looked down, seeing that the object he had fallen over was Daryl.

Daryl was covered by a few large rocks, struggling to move.

"Daryl! You aren't fine!" Jesus exclaimed.

He was glad that his wrist was mostly healed. He would definitely need both hands to move the rocks off Daryl.

He kneeled next to Daryl, and began shoving rocks off of him.

He finished a few minutes later, and he pulled Daryl to his feet.

Jesus examined the other man carefully.

"You have some nasty cuts." He pointed out.

Daryl shrugged.

"I've had worse."

"Okay. Well, just try to be careful, yeah?" Jesus replied, frowning.

They continued up the mountain again.

*****

"Isn't it odd that death has a cure now?" Jesus asked.

They had finally reached the top of the mountain, and were now slowly making their way down.

"What do you mean?" Daryl questioned, though he didn't care all that much about what Jesus was rambling about.

"I mean, that death used to just be death. But now it's like a disease, and it has a cure. It's just no one wants the cure. No one wants to be a walker forever." Jesus explained.

Daryl frowned.

"Kind of. But you can still kill walkers, thank god. And really, it's not much of a cure."

Jesus sighed.

"I suppose you're right."

  
The further down the mountain they went, the warmer it got. It was still freezing though.

Jesus shoved his hands deeper into his trench coat pockets. His whole body felt numb.

Daryl snuck a glance at Paul. He noticed that he wasn't smiling like usual. His eyes lacked the brightness that Daryl liked so much.

Wait. Since when did he think about Paul's eyes?

"Since always." A voice muttered in his head.

  
He shook his head, as if he was trying to shake the thoughts away.

He hated Paul. He hated the dreams. He hated everything.

Daryl glanced at him again.

He looked tired. His hair was tangled, and Daryl had an absurd urge to comb out the tangles with his fingers.

Jesus looked up and met his gaze.

Daryl looked away quickly.

  
Jesus examined Daryl. He had snow and twigs in his hair. He was limping slightly, and cuts covered his body. His light blue eyes looked grey today.

The fog had lessened a little, and they could now see a few feet in front of them.

Jesus wished they could see down the mountain, see what they were heading towards. He hated walking into some place blind.

The slow progress they were making was driving Daryl crazy. He just wanted to be done with all of this. Frowning, he wondered what they would find on the other side of the mountains. Or if there was anything. He personally thought that this trip was a waste of time. What could possibly be so important on the other side? They were living well enough now. They didn't need anything else. Why did Rick have to send him with Paul, out of all people? Because they "worked well together"? Well maybe they did, but he worked well with others as well. He worked well with other people who didn't constantly drive him crazy. People who didn't make him question his own sanity.

"You better be careful. Your face could freeze like that, you know." Jesus said next to him.

Daryl didn't respond, just glared.

To his annoyance, Jesus smiled.

"Why do you do that?" Daryl grumbled.

"Do what?"

"Smile so damn much!"

Jesus's smile faded a little.

"I'm just trying to cheer you up a little, Daryl. " he said quietly.

"You need to stop trying. There is nothing good about this situation. It's freezing, we're on a road going fucking nowhere, and I'm stuck with _you_." Daryl snapped.

Jesus looked at the ground.

"You know Daryl, sometimes you make me feel like I'm not good enough." He whispered.

"Sometimes you aren't good enough." Daryl responded coldly.

Jesus's eyes flashed with hurt.

"At least I'm trying! You can stand there and be as judgmental as you want, telling me I'm not good enough. But you never ONCE put in any god damn effort for me."

Daryl was about the answer, when the ground slid out from beneath him. The rocks were crumbling, and the ground gave way to form a hole.

Jesus and Daryl made eye contact, both looking surprised as they tumbled into the ground.

*****

"Fuck." Jesus muttered.

He had scrapes along his hands from desperately trying to grab something as the ground had melted away.

It was dark, and he could barely see anything.

"Daryl?" He called out, squinting.

There was no reply.

"Fuck." He said again.

He crawled through the darkness blindly, until he came to Daryl's side.

He shook Daryl gently. There was no reply.

Reaching out, he could feel blood on the other mans head.

"No. Daryl. Oh god. Please, Daryl."

His breathing came out in short, rapid breaths.

"Okay. Okay. Stay calm. Think." Jesus muttered to himself.

He reached in his backpack, searching for the first aid kit he had packed. He pulled out the gauze and wrapped it around Daryl's head.

There was a lot of blood. Head wounds bled a lot though, and Jesus couldn't tell if it was really bad or not. It was too dark.

He finished wrapping and applied pressure over Daryl's forehead.

"You'll be okay..." he whispered.

"You have to be okay. I'm not going to let an argument be the last conversation we had. I won't. I can't..."

He took a deep shaking breath, and pressed his lips against Daryl's.

He could taste his own salty tears, dirt, the bitter taste of blood. But underneath it all, he could faintly make out something... something like pine. Something that tasted like Daryl.

****

_Daryl was walking through complete darkness. He could make out a faint light in the distance, and the outline of a man._

_He_ _crept_ _towards_ _it_ _slowly_.

_The light got brighter, he could now see the man._

_He was skinny, had deep red eyes, long black hair._

_The man morphed into a skeleton. The same red eyes remained._

_"Daryl, how nice to see you. I've been waiting for so long." He purred._

_Daryl froze. He knew that voice._

_The man laughed_.

_"Yes, I do believe we've talked before. All the visions of Paul Rovia and whatnot. What an accomplishment, Mr. Dixon! Not many people get to talk to death himself."_

_Daryl could not find the words to speak._

_Death sighed_.

_"Nothing to say? Pity."_

_A_ _series_ _of_ _memories_ flashed _through_ _his_ _mind_ , _each_ _one_ _more_ _painful_ _than_ _the_ _last_.

_Daryl kissed Paul as tears fell down his face._

_He sat with Rick eating dinner, Paul joined him at the table, and Rick looked between the two suspiciously._

_Paul was shooting at men, standing protectively in front of Daryl._

_Paul and Daryl were laying dynamite down._

_There was a gravestone._

_Paul held Daryl's limp body, crying and kissing him._

_  
Daryl cringed in pain as death reappeared._

_  
"Well, I trust you should get the point now." Death said._

_Daryl watched as death began to walk away._

_"Wait" he called._

_Death turned around._

_"Is_ _this_ _real_?" _He_ _asked_.

_Death simply smirked, walking away._

*****

Daryl woke up with a gasp.

Paul was holding him, just as he had seen in his vision.

"You're okay.... you're okay..." Paul whispered, over and over again.

He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Daryl.

"I'm sorry." Daryl rasped. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't have..."

"Shh." Paul cut him off. "It's okay."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Daryl asked, looking at the top of the hole.

It looked like it was ten feet above them, at least.

"I have absolutely no clue." Paul admitted.

"Sounds about right." Daryl muttered.

They sat in silence.

"I didn't mean what I said, before. Not really." Daryl said quietly.

"It's fine, Daryl."

"It's... You're not... I mean... you're good enough." He said, feeling stupid.

Jesus sighed.

"Don't apologize. You meant what you said."

"I didn't-"

Paul cut him off.

"Just... stop."

Daryl looked at his face.

"I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?" Daryl said quietly.

"What?" Jesus asked, face turning  pale.

"Nothing." Daryl muttered.

"I thought you said.... I thought... nevermind. Maybe we should try to get some rest."

Daryl frowned.

He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to dream. He didn't want to face his fears again.

"I don't think I can." He replied, though he knew he shouldn't.

Paul seemed to understand.

"Yeah. Me either." He said.

He reached into his backpack, pulling out the bottle of whisky.

He handed it to Daryl, and they sat there in silence, drinking.

The sun set, and they were drenched in complete darkness. Jesus could feel the bugs crawling over him, and he shuddered.

It was cold, and snow fell on them. Without saying anything, Daryl stood up, and sat next to Paul. He sat so close they were touching.

Paul turned to look at him.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"You know, because it's cold." He tried to explain, and Jesus could imagine him blushing.

"I know..." Jesus whispered, and shifted closer.

Daryl closed his eyes, and for a brief moment, he forgot about everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

  
_"Let me tell you a story." Death said._

_He was in skeleton form, but he now wore a tux. He carefully picked a speck of lint of his suit with long, shinning fingers._

_Daryl sat across from him, strapped down to a chair. He couldn't move or speak. It was almost as if a spell had been placed upon him._

_"I'm going to tell you the story of how I fell in love." Death began._

_"Once upon a time, there was a man who was fascinated with war, blood, and death. He loved reading the bloodiest moments in history books. He was fascinated by torture. Everyday, he wondered what the afterlife would be like. One day, the man was hit by an oncoming car. He woke up, floating above his own body in a hospital. A Skelton entered his hospital room._

_The Skelton promised the man that in the afterlife, he would have Immense power, and live so as long as he did his duties. The man was intrigued, and followed the skeleton through the doors of afterlife. The man suddenly found himself a Skelton, and the other man had turned to dust. It took awhile, but he eventually realized he was the new master of death._

_The man roamed the earth. When it was time for someone to die, he would visit their side, and gently touch their hearts. He could stop anyone's heartbeat, whenever he wanted._

_One day, he was drawn to a hospital room. There was a woman giving birth. He knew that her time was running out. But then, another man walked through the hospital door. He had golden skin, bright blue eyes, blond hair, and he wore a suit, just as Death did._

_Alarmed, Death asked the mysterious man who he was._

_"I am your opposite, Life."_

_Whenever a new human entered the world, Life was there to greet him._

_The second Death met him, he knew he was doomed. Who could ever love death? Death and Life, they aren't meant to be. Death was cold, he destroyed. Life was gentle and warm, creating life, giving a purpose to the world._

_But despite their differences, Death was in love, and he wanted to believe that he could be loved._

_They ran into each other often, and got to know each other quite well._

_One day, Life kissed Death. Death was so captivated that he forgot who he was. Death reached out his hand, and placed it over Life's beating heart. It ceased to beat, and he vowed to never love again."_

_Daryl stared into Death's red eyes._

_"Why are you telling me?" He questioned._

_Death tapped his bony fingers against his jaw bone._

_"Who do you love, Daryl?" Death asked, ignoring his question._

_"No one." Daryl replied._

_Death hummed quietly._

_"Then you wouldn't mind if I killed... Carol? Or Rick? Dare I say..... Paul?"_

_A vision of Paul laying next to Daryl appeared. They were sleeping in the hole, snow covering their bodies. Death slowly reached a hand out, placing it inches away from Paul's heart._

" _Stop." Daryl demanded_.

 _The scene vanished_.

_"Stop, hm? I thought your life would be better without him?"_

_Daryl closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit him._

_"He doesn't deserve to die."_

" _Perhaps you should learn to learn appreciate him. He has risked more for you than you know." Death said._

_Daryl glared in response._

_"I know what you're thinking." Death purred. "You're thinking I'm a monster. Well, maybe you should speak more softly then, Daryl. Monsters are dangerous, and people are dropping like flies..." he reached towards Daryl's chest._

_Daryl flinched, and Death pulled away._

_"It takes a Monster to kill a Monster..." Death whispered_.

_His red eyes met Daryl's blue ones, and Daryl was engulfed in a sea of red._

*****

Daryl jolted awake.

Paul was still asleep next to him, a thin layer of snow covering him. The only good thing about being stuck in this damn hole was the lack of wind.

Daryl sat up and brushed the snow off his body. He didn't feel cold anymore. He just felt numb.

Jesus began to stir, slowly waking up and missing Daryl's warmth against him.

Daryl gave him a slight nod when he saw Jesus was now awake.

"You have a plan on how we're gonna get out of here yet?" Daryl asked.

Jesus looked at the hole above them.

"I don't know... if my wrist was completely healed, I'd probably be able to climb out. But I'm not sure now."

Daryl cringed, knowing that Paul's wrist had been broken because of him.

"What if I lift you up, do you think you could climb out?" Daryl asked, a plan forming in his mind.

"Probably. But what about you?" Paul replied, frowning.

Daryl shrugged.

"If you get out, you can climb down the rest of the mountain and look for some rope or something." Daryl suggested.

"I don't want to leave you alone. I don't like that idea very much."

"Well it's that or die. So take your pick."

Jesus closed his eyes in frustration.

"Okay. Fine. But I'm leaving all the supplies with you." He compromised.

"No. There's no way in hell your doing that." Daryl stated.

"Why not?"

"Because you need supplies! You could be gone for days!"

"Which is precisely why I'm leaving the supplies with you! I can fend for myself out there, Daryl. But you're stuck in a hole! What are you going to do if you run out of water and food? Or freeze?"

The two men glared at each other for a moment.

"It's that or dying. Take your pick." Jesus said, mocking Daryl's earlier words.

"Fine." Daryl growled after a minute.

Daryl stood up, and linked his hands together.

"Come on then. I'll give you a boost."

Jesus stared at him, hesitating. He hated leaving Daryl alone. He wanted to memorize every last detail of Daryl's face before he left.

He walked towards Daryl, placing his hands on Daryl's shoulder and placing his foot into Daryl's hand.

"Your hands are freezing." Daryl muttered.

"Sorry." Jesus said, sounding not sorry at all. "Okay. I'll count to three. On three, I'll jump, and you try to push me up."

"One...two...three!"

Jesus reached the top of the hole. His hands gripped rock as he hung half in and half out the hole. The rocks dug painfully into his hands, and his wrist ached.

Daryl watched him struggle to pull himself up from below.

With shaking arms, Paul managed to claw his way out of the hole. He collapsed on the ground, taking deep breaths.

"Paul?" Daryl's muffled voice called.

Jesus poked his head over the edge.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there, yeah?" Daryl said, looking slightly embarrassed.

Jesus smiled.

"I will. I'll be back soon, I promise."

****

Jesus half slid down the rest of the mountain, going as fast as he could without twisting an ankle.

He prayed he didn't run into anything too terrible, as he only had a knife on him.

The rocky Mountain turned into a forest, and Jesus breathed a sigh of relief.

Now he just needed to find something to help Daryl.

****

Jesus walked all day until he found a small town. It was empty and quiet, and Jesus couldn't believe his luck.

There was a hardware store on the town square. He could see that there were a few walkers, and the store was half empty. It was worth a shot though.

He pushed open the doors quietly, trying not to attract the walkers. There were about five of them, and he wasn't sure if he could take all of them at once. He tip toed around the isles until he found the rope.

Taking an armful of the thickest rope he could find, he cut off the rest with his knife. He was creeping towards the front door, when a walker turned towards him and snarled. Jesus groaned.

Time for Plan B. He started sprinting towards the door, they walkers following close behind. He ran out the door, and slammed it shut behind him. The walkers bounced harmlessly off the glass, and he relaxed a little.

Something sharp hit his leg. It felt like a shot. He looked down to see a dart sticking out of his calf.

"What the hell?" He muttered, before falling unconscious.

****

Jesus woke up, tied to a chair with his own rope. He opened his eyes. His head was pounding and everything was blurry. He blinked, clearing his eyes.

Sasha stood in front of him, a gun pointed to his temple.

"Who are you and why are you in my town?" She hissed.

Jesus blinked in surprise.

"Paul. Paul Rovia. But my friends call me Jesus."

She snorted in disgust.

"Jesus. Whatever. Why are you here?"

"Well you see, I was on a journey with my friend to see what was on the other side of the mountains. On the way here, we fell into a hole and he wasn't able to get out. So I went looking for some rope to save him." He explained.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, and another man entered the room.

Sasha stood up and walked towards him. They talked in hushed voices.

Jesus made out the words,

"But can we really trust him, Tyrese?"

Paul sighed. Daryl was going to be _pissed_ if he found out he was kidnapped again.

"I'm going to talk to Bob." Sasha muttered to her brother.

She left the room, and came back a few minutes later.

"You can go. But don't come back here." Sasha said, looking kind of grumpy.

Jesus could understand why. Letting people go could be dangerous.

She untied him grudgingly, and handed him his knife and rope back. She pointed the gun at him again.

"Just in case you decide to try anything." She warned.

Jesus left before she could change her mind.

****

Jesus walked back up the mountain. It was raining now, and the fog was even worse than before. He knew there was no way he could find Daryl in this. Or if he did, it would be by accident because he fell into the hole again.

Wrapping his trench coat tighter around himself, he decided to settle down for the night.

***

Daryl sat at the bottom of the hole, feeling utterly trapped. Well, he supposed he was. But he hated small spaces. He wanted to move, to do something. Anything.

Paul still wasn't back yet. Daryl expected him gone a few days, but he was still worried. And no, he wasn't worried about Paul thank you very much. He was worried that he would die alone at the bottom of this hole if Paul didn't come back for him.

He had tried to climb out of the hole several times now, to no avail.

He sighed, burying his head into his arms. He was stuck in what was quite possibly the most uncomfortable place on Earth. And Daryl was used to harsh conditions, but this place was uncomfortable as hell. Rain, snow and cold mixed with a small space where you had to sit on stones? Just great. Not to mention every time he dozed off, his dreams would be filled with Paul and Death. He wondered how much longer he'd have to wait down here alone. Although he hated to admit it, he kind of missed Paul. Especially now that it was night and he was trying to fall asleep and freezing.

Yes, he wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he wished Paul was with him.

****

The next the morning, the fog had cleared. It was still raining, but at least Paul could see now. He set out to find Daryl.

It took two hours for him to find the hole again.

He leaned over the side to see Daryl curled up into a ball, sound asleep.

"Daryl." He called.

Daryl jolted awake, looking panicked. He visibly relaxed when he saw it was just Paul.

"Took you long enough." He grumbled.

"Yeah well, I got kidnapped. Sorry for the inconvenience." He said sarcastically.

"You're lying."

There was no way in hell Paul had managed to be kidnapped AGAIN and had somehow gotten out of it.

"I wish I was." Jesus said with a sigh.

"What'd you do, kill em and escape?" Daryl asked.

Jesus smiled a little.

"No, I got out without killing them. Aren't you proud?"

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, a gold star? Now hurry up and get me out of here."

Jesus laughed.

"Okay, okay. Patience, darling."

Daryl glared, but Jesus just laughed harder.

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Parts of this chapter may contain material that some readers may find disturbing or offensive. I have put this part in italics, as it is also one of Daryl's flashbacks.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait. I've been on vacation and have been struggling to find time to write. 
> 
> Jesus has 5 weeks left! :O

  
Daryl and Paul walked side by side down the mountain. They figured they needed to go back with at least some information about the surrounding area. If they were lucky, they'd find some supplies along the way.

Paul began to fill Daryl in on the events that had happened two days ago.

"I was walking out of the hardware store, when I felt this prick. And I looked down, and there was a tranquilizer dart sticking out of my leg! When I woke up, I was tied up in the rope I had gotten for you. This lady, Sasha, and two other guys told me to get out and never come back again. Sooo we might not want to go back that way."

A faint smile played on Daryl's lips.

"Remind me again, how you always manage to get stuck in the worst situations?"

Jesus shrugged.

"Beats me."

*****

The snow rained down gently. The two men were beginning to get used to the cold, so it wasn't so miserable anymore . Daryl managed to get through the entire day without having any weird visions. Paul noticed Daryl's improved mood, and decided to strike up a conversation while he had the chance.

"Daryl?"

"Hm?"

"What's your worst fear?"

There was silence.

"I, uh, I'm not sure." Daryl muttered.

"I can tell you're lying. You always look at the ground when you lie, you know." Paul stated.

Daryl let out a deep breath.

"I don't really want to talk about it." He responded.

"Aw, come on. I'll tell you mine..." Paul bribed.

"What would the great Paul Rovia be scared of?" Daryl asked sarcastically. 

Paul smirked and said nothing. 

"Being alone." Daryl finally whispered.

Paul stopped walking and looked at him.

"You, but... you _like_ being alone."

"Not like that." Daryl explained. "I just mean... what if everyone dies, and I have to stay on this walker infested earth, alone, until I die?"

Paul reached out and placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder. He couldn't believe Daryl was being so open with him. It was certainly unusual.

"I'm not going to let that happen, Daryl. Even if it's just you and me, I won't let you be alone. Even if you do hate me.." Paul said quietly.

"I don't hate you, you know." Daryl said, avoiding eye contact.

"I didn't think that you wanted me around. You never indicated that you did."

Daryl took a step back, growing uncomfortable under Paul's gaze.

"I don't know what I want anymore, Paul."

The two men continued walking, and after a few minutes of silence, Daryl said,

"Your turn."

"What?" Paul asked, confused.

"Tell me your worst fear."

"Oh, that's easy. Spiders." Paul said, laughing a little.

Daryl looked at him in disbelief.

"The great Paul Rovia is afraid of _spiders_? The same man who broke us out of Negans base with a bobby pin? The same man who faced Terminus, the governor, and hundreds of walkers?? "

Jesus smiled.

"Yep. That's me. But honestly, I prefer to think that Jesus does all that stuff, and Paul is the one that's afraid of spiders. Sometimes Paul and Jesus are two different people, if you know what I mean?"

Daryl nodded.

"Yeah. I think I do."

*****

Daryl and Jesus walked around the edges of a town near the base of the mountains. They stoped at any stores that looked like they had supplies.

They ended up getting a few things from a pharmacy, and even found a few hand guns and ammunition.

Satisfied with their load, they began to head back towards the base of the mountain.

"Do you think Rick will be happy with what we found? I mean, it's not much, but it's something, right?" Jesus asked.

Daryl was about to respond when they heard a click behind them.

Both men spun around, recognizing the sound instantly.

Sasha stood behind them, a gun pointed at Jesus.

"I thought I told you not to come back here." She growled.

"We aren't anywhere close to where I was last time!" Jesus protested.

"We were just leaving." Daryl added.

Jesus was struck at how odd it was for Daryl to back down like that. He would usually start a fight right away, acting on impulse, losing his temper in a flash.

But Daryl held his hands out, showing he was unarmed. He looked calm.

"No. I'm afraid I can't let you leave. Not again." Sasha said coldly.

Jesus scanned the trees around him. He frowned and looked at Daryl.

Daryl gazed back. A moment of understanding passed through the two men, and Jesus knew they were thinking the same thing.

"Run." They said, at the exact same time.

They were sprinting through the woods, hearing gunshots going off behind them, followed by muffled swearing.

Jesus heard the two other men come to back Sasha up.

There were now three guns being fired at them.

Jesus felt a bullet wiz by his ear, barely missing his head.

Daryl ran next to him, panting.

"Well that could've gone better." Jesus commented mildly.

Daryl didn't answer, settling for a glare instead. 

They ran for what felt like an eternity. Jesus turned around to look behind him, searching for their pursuers.

He couldn't see them, but he could hear them crashing through the woods close behind.

"Paul!" Daryl yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking him backwards.

"What are you-" Paul began.

But then he noticed the steep cliff he had almost just ran over.

"Where the hell did that come from??" Paul exclaimed, looking at the water below.

"The better question is, where do we go now?" Daryl muttered, hearing more gunshots.

"Jump."

"Are you crazy? That's 100 feet down! And the water is _freezing_! This is suicide." Daryl protested.

"And if they find us, they'll kill us. So do you want a 'for sure' death, or a 'maybe' death?" Paul asked, looking worriedly into the woods as the voices grew louder.

"I can't believe this is happening." Daryl grumbled. "Fine. We jump."

"Okay. By the way. I can't swim." Jesus said, jumping over the side of the cliff.

"What? Paul, God Damnit!" 

Daryl took a deep breath and dove after Paul.

The fall seemed to last forever. Everything was moving in slow motion. Daryl heard a splash as Paul hit the Icy water, and he plunged in a few seconds later.

His head went under the water, and he was submerged into complete darkness.

He felt his panic rising. How was he going to find Paul? How was he going to get them out before they died of hypothermia? He gasped when his head broke the surface of the water. His hair fell into his eyes, and he saw a hand sticking out of the water for a brief moment, before it began to sink.

Daryl splashed towards Paul, diving under the water. He blindly reached out, until a hand grasped his. Pulling upwards, he managed to drag Paul to the surface.

Paul coughed and sputtered. He was shaking badly, and now that Daryl's adrenaline had worn off, he was starting to feel the cold.

They needed to get out of the water and get dry, fast.

Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl's shoulders, and Daryl began swimming to shore.

They collapsed onto the rocky shoreline, breathing heavily and shivering.

"We need to start a fire." Daryl rasped, not able to say anything more. He pointed towards the woods.

The two men stumbled towards the woods. Everything felt so numb, they could barely walk.

They eventually came across a hollowed out tree. Trying to avoid the wind, they crawled into it, sitting close while Daryl started a fire.

"We're going to die out here. We have nothing dry. Just this shitty fire." Daryl growled, throwing a stick angrily.  
"And you! I can't believe you! You almost _died_! Why would you do that, Paul?"

"Because I trust you, Daryl. I knew you would get me out." He responded quietly.

Daryl's eyes lit with silent rage.

"That's all good and fine, Paul! Until I don't save you! If I hadn't saved you, you would be at the bottom of that lake, and it would be all my fault! You would've left me alone Paul. You promised."

"But you did save me, Daryl." Paul said, reaching out to brush the hair out of Daryl's face.

Daryl let out a strangled noise, looking distraught.

"I can't be your Hero, Paul. I'm not a hero, I never will be. That's not who I am."

"Daryl, look at me." Paul commanded.

Blue eyes stared into grey ones.

"You are the bravest man I've ever met. Don't you dare think differently." He whispered fiercely.

Daryl closed his eyes and leaned closer to the fire.

They sat in silence, sitting close to the fire. 

"I can feel your heart pounding from here. What are you nervous about?" Paul asked. 

Daryl scowled. 

"It's just the adrenaline." 

"Ah. Isn't it ironic that when our hearts are pounding, or when they skip a beat, that's when we feel most alive?" 

  
****

Daryl and Paul arrived back to base two days later. By some miracle, they survived. Their backpacks were still damp, along their supplies. Luckily, nothing was damaged.

They told Rick everything they had found over the mountains, and Rick agreed that they shouldn't go back. At least they knew now.

Daryl forgot all about his deal with Rick. He didn't remember to ask to change rooms, and Rick smirked at Jesus.

"Told you." He whispered, when Daryl was out of earshot. 

Jesus nodded, appreciative that Rick had pushed them together.

He sat down next to Beth at the table, ready to eat an actual dinner. He was getting pretty sick of eating canned food. Even cereal would be a welcome change.

He told Beth of his adventure, and she wished she could've gone herself. It sounded so interesting. So dangerous. She was sick of being stuck inside all day.

Daryl stood in the corner of the room, scowling and refusing to talk to anyone. Jesus shouldn't have expected anything different.

Jesus stood up, and Beth followed.

"I think I'm going to bed. I'm pretty exhausted." He told her.

She nodded.

"Before you go... I just want to say..." she trailed off.

She didn't know what to say, so she decided to act instead.

She wrapped her arms around Jesus's neck, and pressed her lips against his. She kissed him hard.

Jesus's eyes went wide, and he saw Daryl leave the room from his peripheral vision.

Fuck. Just when he thought he might have made some progress....

Beth pulled away.

"I missed you." She whispered.

The entire group stared at Jesus and Beth, frozen in shock.

Rick shook his head.

"Beth, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on or anything, but I'm gay." Jesus said quietly.

Her face turned bright red.

"Oh, no, I'm.. I'm so sorry!" She stammered.

She turned around and ran out of the room.

Jesus looked at the rest of the group, silently asking them what to do.

Maggie stood up and walked over to Jesus.

"I'll go talk to her." She said.

"I should go too." Jesus replied solemnly.

"No, I think you'd better go talk to Daryl." She said, gently pushing him towards his room.

*****

Jesus entered their bedroom hesitantly. Daryl sat next to the window, gazing up at the stars.

"Daryl?" Paul called softly.

"What." Daryl growled, not looking up.

"Can I tell you something?"

Daryl shrugged, seemingly indifferent.

"I'm gay." Paul blurted.

Daryl's head whipped around.

"What?"

"I should've told you before. You don't... have a problem with that or anything, do you?" Paul asked, seeing Daryl's face.

Daryl didn't answer. A memory flashed across his mind.

" _Now, little brother, I'm gonna teach you how to be a ladies man. How to get laid every night." Merle said, grinning. "First, you get em drunk. High if ya can. Then ya take em home. Simple as that. Now, you see that girl over there? Give it a try."_

_Daryl felt sick as he stared at the girl across the bar._

" _I can't..." he muttered_.

_His brothers eyes flashed with anger._

_"Sure you can! Unless you want people thinking you're a fag...." he spat, punching Daryl's arm._

_Daryl looked at the ground, saying nothing._

" _Are you a faggot, Darlina?" Merle asked._

 _Daryl stayed silent_.

 _"Answer me_!"

 _Silence_.

_Merle slammed Daryl against the wall, raising his fist._

_"This is what happens to faggots, Darlina." He growled_.

_He dove his fist into Daryl stomach. Daryl crumpled to the ground, and Merle kicked him._

_As he kicked Daryl, Merle whispered,_

_"I'm doing this because I love you."_

  
"Daryl? " Paul repeated.

"What? No, no, I don't have a problem." He mumbled.

"Okay... well, Goodnight, Daryl." Paul replied uncertainly.

"Night." Daryl said, distracted by the memories floating through his mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for the Comments and Kudos! Some days, they're the only thing that keeps me writing. Here's a long chapter for you. 
> 
> WARNING: I did decide to add a trigger warning to this chapter. There is material that some may find disturbing, and if you wish to skip it, I have marked the beginning and end. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)

  
Daryl struggled to lift a crate of ammunition onto the storage shelves.

Paul watched him, amused.

"Need some help there?"

"No." He growled.

He was in a particularly bad mood this morning. His dreams had been filled with memories of his past. He began to think about things he hoped he'd never have to think about again. Things about Merle. Things about his father.

Paul stepped forward and gently took the box from him.

"Let me help. You're exhausted. You've been working all day."

Daryl scowled.

"When will you realize I don't want your help!" He snarled.

Paul's eyes widened a little. He set the box down on the shelf and reached towards Daryl.

"I'm just trying-" he began.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Daryl snapped.

Paul's hand fell to his side, his eyes filled with hurt.

"What's wrong?" He asked quietly.

Daryl couldn't take it anymore. The eyes. The touch. The concern. The dreams. The memories.

"What's wrong? The fact that you can't take a fucking hint and leave me alone!" Daryl bit.

Jesus dropped his eyes to the floor.

"You're right, Daryl. I'm sorry." He murmured, walking out of the storage room.

They avoided each other the rest of the day, and when they did happen to run into each other, there was nothing but tense silence.

  
****

"I want to leave."

"What? You just got back!" Rick protested.

Jesus frowned.

"I don't mean as a run. I want to leave. I can't stay here anymore. "

"You know I can't stop you from leaving." Rick replied, looking weary.

"I know. But I'd rather have your blessing and whatnot." Jesus said with a small smile.

"Can I ask why you're leaving?" Rick asked, curiously.

Jesus sighed.

"I need some time. I'm sick of being stuck here. I just... need to leave." He explained.

"Are you coming back? We could really use you here. "

Jesus looked solemn. His usually bright blue eyes were now a faded grey.

"I don't know. I just need to go."

Rick ran a hand through his hair. Jesus thought could see a few strands of grey mixed in.

"I'm not stopping you."

****

Daryl woke up to an empty room. It wasn't all that unusual, Paul was usually an early riser. He still wasn't sure how Paul managed to be so bright and cheery almost every morning. The man barely slept, for fucks sake. He would often slip into bed long after Daryl had, and wake up in the early hours of the morning. It was kind of infuriating, really. How could you have so much energy from so little sleep?

That being said, it was still early. The sun had not yet risen, and Daryl doubted anyone else was awake yet. He used to be able to sleep in, but that was before the nightmares had started.

He thought briefly of the conversation he had with Paul the day before, and felt slightly guilty. Frowning, he pushed the thought away.

He wondered if he could fall back asleep, but after 5 minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up. Groggily, he got out of bed and went to find something useful to do.

****

It was night now, and Daryl had yet to run into Paul. It had been nice at first, not having to see him. He didn't have to deal with the concerned glances, the tense silences. He could relax a little. But when Paul didn't show up for dinner, Daryl felt vaguely concerned.

Rick sat next to him at dinner, and they chatted for a brief time. Small talk was never really Daryl's strong suit, and the conversation died after a minute or two. He picked at his food, not eating. Beth was looking at him with a strange expression, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"You okay there?" Rick asked.

Daryl jumped.

"M'fine." He replied, staring at his plate.

Sighing, he picked up his fork and forced himself to take a bite of food. Unfortunately, Rick chose this moment to say,

"Jesus left."

Daryl choked on the bite of food he had just taken.

Rick looked at him in mild concern as he coughed.

"What?" He finally sputtered.

"He decided he doesn't want to stay here anymore. He left this morning. You wouldn't happen to know why that is, would you?" Rick asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No." Daryl lied.

He knew exactly why Paul had left. He just wouldn't admit it.

*****

Paul walked through the forest, humming quietly. There was something strange about being alone again. He had been so scared to be alone before. So scared that he would have live without Daryl. So scared that he would die. Now? He felt nothing. There was something satisfying about walking away. He had been selfish before. He had wanted Daryl, and hadn't stopped to think about what Daryl wanted.

This was a different world, and if Daryl would be happier without him, then so be it. He would no longer be there to drag him down. He would no longer stand in Daryl's way. Daryl deserved all the happiness in the world. If that world didn't involve him, then that was okay. Yes, he would die in 5 weeks. But Daryl would be happy, and that was all he wanted.

****

Daryl was miserable.

****

The snow crunched under Paul's boots.  
He shivered as a blast of wind hit his face. His nose burned. His eyes stung.

He could make out the outline of a gas station in the distance.

That would have to do for now. He just needed to get out of the snow and wind for a few hours.

He wrapped his trench coat tighter around his body as he got closer to the gas station.

Peering in through the windows, he could see no walkers. He frowned. It was strange to find a building completely abandoned nowadays. Figuring there were at least a few walkers hiding, he drew his knife as he entered the front doors.

Walking slowly, knife held out, he checked the isles one by one. When he got to the last isle, he cautiously looked around the corner.

His eyes went wide as a fist collided with his nose. He staggered back, with surprise and pain.

"Oh my god!!" A voice said.

He looked up to see a young man standing in front of him, looking horrified. Paul gingerly reached up and touched his nose. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He grimaced.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I thought you were a walker!" The man explained, eyes wide.

Paul glared.

"And you usually punch walkers in the nose?" He asked drily.

"Well... I, I don't know! I just kind of reacted on instinct. I'm sorry. Let me help you." He said, reaching a hand out to Paul.

Paul took it hesitantly, and the man pulled him off the floor.

"My name's Mason." The young man announced.

Still skeptical, Paul replied,

"Paul Rovia."

Mason sent him a dazzling smile.

"I like that. Paul. I really am sorry I punched you, by the way."

Jesus shrugged.

"It's fine, I did walk into your gas station. I should be going anyway."

Mason frowned.

"Wait! Don't go, not yet. Please? I've been here alone since.... everything started really..."

Jesus felt a wave of sympathy.

"Plus, I have beer..." Mason bribed.

Something about the other man made Jesus uneasy, but he pushed the feeling away. What would be so wrong with staying a few hours? He was just lonely and wanted some company, that was all.

"Alright." He agreed. "I guess I can stay for awhile."

****

"How old are you, anyway?" Jesus asked, only slightly tipsy.

Mason, on the other hand, was completely smashed.

"Uh, I think 25 now?" He said with a hiccup.

Jesus hummed.

"You don't look that old." He commented.

"I get that a lot. " he replied.

Jesus took a slow sip of beer.

"You're wearing a ring. Are you married?" Mason asked.

Jesus looked down in surprise. He had completely forgotten about the ring, to be honest. Daryl had given it to him.... before everything. Jesus smiled a little at the memory. Daryl had looked so embarrassed and mumbled, "I thought you might like this..."  
But that was from another world.

"I, uh, no. I'm not married. Something my old boyfriend gave me." Jesus explained.

"Old boyfriend? As in Ex? Why do you still wear it then?" Mason questioned.

Jesus frowned, wondering how to talk his way out of this one.

"Not an ex. He, um, passed in the outbreak." Jesus lied.

Mason scooted closer to him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My boyfriend turned as well." He slurred.

Jesus glanced up in surprise.

"You're gay?"

"Bi." Mason corrected.

Jesus nodded, lost in thought.  
  
**** **TRIGGER** **WARNING** *****

"You know...." Mason began, an evil grin on his face. "I could make you forget all about him...."

He leaned closer to Jesus, his breath hot against his neck.

Jesus closed his eyes.

Mason leaned in, pressing kisses along his collar bone.

Jesus let out a deep, shuddering breath.

This wasn't right. He rubbed a thumb over his ring. Mason had moved up to his neck and was sucking gently.

"Forget him.." he whispered.

Jesus felt a wave of nausea. He couldn't do this.

"Why not?" A voice In his head asked. "You have 5 weeks to live. Daryl isn't interested. You might as well get some while you still can..."

He shook his head. Mason bit his earlobe.

"I can't..." Jesus whispered.

Mason smirked against his skin.

"You can. Forget about him. He's gone."

His breath tickled Jesus's ear.

"No. Stop." Jesus begged quietly.

Mason paused a second before continuing. He crawled onto Jesus's lap.

"You don't mean that...." he whispered. "You want this. You _need_ this."

His hands tailed to Jesus's hips. He ran them over his legs before slowly unzipping the zipper of his jeans.

Jesus let out a small whimper, frozen.

Masons hand trailed under his jeans while he pressed wet kisses against Jesus's neck.

"Stop." He begged.

Mason continued.

"STOP!" He said more forcefully.

Mason smiled.

"You want this. I know you do."

His hands reached further....

Jesus was finally able to move.

He bucked his hips upward, while using his hands to shove Mason off his lap.

Mason let out a surprised gasp, falling onto the floor.

Jesus stumbled away, panting.

Mason turned to him, fire in his eyes.

"HOW DARE YOU?" He yelled. "IM GIVING YOU WHAT YOU WANT, YOU LITTLE FAG!"

Jesus scrambled back, eyes wide. Mason advanced towards him, staggering drunkly.

Panicked, Jesus kicked as hard as he could. Mason stumbled to the ground.

Jesus stood up and started jogging away. He ran out of the gas station into the dark chilly night.

He ran for several minutes. He stopped and looked around cautiously. There was no one in sight. Jesus relaxed a little, and turned to walk away. Suddenly, a figure moved out of the shadows, slamming him against a tree trunk. The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the solid bark.

Mason stood in front of him, face bloody, eyes wild.

"You're going to regret that, you know." He growled menacingly.

Lifting his fist, he punched Jesus square in the eye. Jesus let out a yelp as he felt his eye already beginning to swell. He tasted blood.

Mason raised a fist again, and Jesus ducked out of the way. Using all of his strength, he rolled, switching their positions.

Mason's eyes went wide as he was pinned against the tree. Jesus wasted no time. He grabbed Mason's hair and slammed his head against the tree. He heard a crack, but he kept going. Blood began to coat the tree trunk, but Jesus continued to slam the lifeless body against it. He screamed as he slammed Mason's head into the tree, over and over again.

With a strangled sob, he dropped Mason's body to the ground. He tried to walk a few steps away, before collapsing into the ground in a sobbing, broken mess.

*** **END** **OF** **TRIGGER** **WARNING** ****

  
Paul stared at the ground. Blood covered the snow around him, and he glanced up at Mason's lifeless body. Another sob threatened to escape.

He could only see out of one eye. He was worried his nose might be broken. This was a mess. He missed Daryl....  
He wanted to go back home.

****

Daryl stared at the empty bed across from him. It had been two days. Two days of not eating. Two days of not sleeping. Two days of wondering why the hell he was so broken.

He had no dreams, no visions, and that scared him even more.

He should be happy. Happy that Paul was gone. Happy that the dreams had gone.

He forced himself to look away from the empty bed. He looked out the window, though it was dark and he couldn't see anything. He could only see his reflection in the glass.

What he saw made him shudder. His hair was a greasy, tangled mess. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken into his face. He looked like hell.

He pressed a hand against the cool window.

It was cold out. He wondered briefly if Paul was okay. No, it was better not to think about that.

He looked at the empty bed once more.

Sighing, he crept slowly towards it.

He laid down hesitantly, breathing deeply.

He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the sheets.

It smelled of something so comforting, so familiar, so... _Paul._

He shuddered and once again pushed his thoughts away.

****

Paul walked back to the base, silently thinking about what his plan was.

He didn't want to see Daryl. Daryl was probably happy. He didn't want to disrupt that.

But he needed help, he would admit it. He eventually decided that he would go to Carol.

It was early in the morning, and no one would be awake yet. He could sneak in, sneak out. No harm done.

He crept silently through the halls, until he got to Carol and Michonne's room. Luckily, Michonne was on guard duty. He had been able to sneak around back without her noticing.

He pushed open Carol's door and sat next to her bed quietly.

He placed a hand on Carol's arm and shook her gently.

"Carol?" He whispered.

She began to stir. Her eyes opened groggily, and she looked at him a minute before bolting up.

"Jesus! What happened to you?" She whispered frantically, eyeing his face.

"I'll tell you later, but could you help me? Before anyone else wakes up?" He asked.

Carol almost said no, that he had left and didn't need her help anymore. But Jesus looked terrified, so she decided to help him.

"Of course. Come with me to the supply room. You look awful..."

Jesus laughed weakly.

"You should see the other guy..."

Though he joked, Carol could see he was upset.

She took his hand and gently led him to the supply room.

*****

Daryl woke up early. He was pacing the halls, unable to sleep. He had slept maybe two hours last night. He had dreams that Paul was dying. Every time, he woke up, terrified.

As he walked, he noticed a faint light coming from the supply room.

Frowning, he went to investigate. He paused outside the door, hearing voices.

"Really, you look awful." Carol said.

"I know." Came the answer, from... Paul?

The door was cracked open, and he cautiously looked through the crack. He could make out the back of Paul's head.

He frowned, furious. How could Paul leave, and come back again, just like that?

He was about to open the door, when Paul began talking again.

"I... I don't know what to do, Carol. He was kissing me and then-" he tried to explain it, but his voice cracked, and he was ready to fall apart again.

"Shh. I know. I know. It's hard...." Carol whispered, stroking his hair soothingly.

Daryl looked away in disgust.

Here he was, worried, when Paul had just snuck out to kiss some prick!

He walked away from the door, storming down the hall.

***

Paul left the supply room feeling slightly better.

"Thank you, Carol." He whispered.

She hugged him tightly.

"I'm so sorry...." she said quietly.

The tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he pulled away abruptly.

"I should go." He said.

Carol nodded.

"I understand. Be careful."

He left without another word.

****

Jesus walked along the dark hallway, prepared to leave. He was stopped by a force slamming him against the wall. His chest was against the wall, so he couldn't see his attacker.

He fought the urge to scream, thinking for a moment that it was Mason again. He closed his eyes tightly.

"You think you can just leave to go fuck some guy? Just leave the group like that?" A voice hissed.

Jesus's head snapped up.

"Daryl?" He asked, not being able to see anything in the dark, and still facing the wall.

"Why did you leave, Paul?" Daryl spat.

Paul thought he heard hurt in Daryl's voice, but he must be imagining it.

"You left the group for some guy? You left Beth? And Rick? The group _needs_ you!" Daryl continued.

Paul stopped.

"Wait, how do you know about a guy?" He asked.

"I heard you and Carol talking." Daryl growled.

"Then why would you think I left for him!" Jesus asked, bewildered.

"You said you kissed him!" Daryl responded.

"Wait. Are you... jealous?" He finally asked.

How much had Daryl heard? Did he really think that he had wanted that to happen?

Daryl let go of him and growled.

"No! But you left the group. When we needed you. Why would you do that?"

Jesus whirled around to face him.

"I left because of you!" He hissed.

The blood drained from Daryl's face as he looked at Paul. He took in the swollen eye, the crooked nose.

"What?" He whispered.

"I left because of you! Because you hate me, and wanted me gone! So I left! And I came back, because something happened and I needed to talk to Carol, and you accuse me of sneaking off with some guy!" He yelled.

Daryl took a step back, eyes wide. He couldn't look away from Paul's eye...The bloody nose...

"Who did that to you?" He whispered, voice low and dangerous.

"What?"

"Who gave you that black eye! Who hurt you!" Daryl growled.

Jesus was silent. He looked down at the ground.

"Was it him? That guy?" Daryl asked, eyes filled with rage.

"Daryl, its fine. I took care of it." Paul muttered.

Daryl slammed his fist against the wall.

"Damnit Paul! When will you understand it's not okay!" He yelled.

He pushed Paul against the wall.

"Tell me what he did. Now." He said, his eyes staring into Paul's.

Paul was silent.

" _Tell_ _me_." He growled.

Paul let out a whimper.

"Don't hurt me..." he whispered.

Daryl jerked back, as if stung.

"What?" He whispered.

"Please..." Paul murmured. Silent tears spilled down his face.

Daryl felt numb.

"You think I would hurt you?" He asked, horrified.

Paul let out a sob, and slid down the wall.

Daryl acted without thinking. He fell to his knees, pulling Paul into his arms.

"I would _never_ hurt you. Not like that..." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

  
Rick found them like that an hour later. Both of them sitting on the floor, Daryl stroking Paul's back. Rick couldn't see Paul's face, as he had his hands covering it.

He stared at them for a second, confused and wondering what had happened.

Daryl looked up at Rick briefly, and shook his head. He put a finger to his lips, indicating that Rick should be quiet. Rick nodded, and awkwardly walked away.

"Paul?" Daryl asked gently.

Paul looked up, miserable. The look he gave Daryl made his heart stop. He looked so utterly broken. His eyes were no longer glowing, they were dull.

Reaching out slowly, Daryl wiped a drop of blood off of Paul's lip with his thumb. Paul shuddered.

"I think we should go back to our room. To talk." Daryl suggested quietly.

Paul nodded, and stood up shakily.

It was still early, and thankfully they didn't run into anyone on their way to their room.

Paul sat down on his bed, and Daryl sat next to him. Paul stared at his hands, and they sat in silence for a long time.

"I know something happened out there." Daryl finally said.

Paul slowly lifted his eyes to Daryl's face, saying nothing.

"I can't force you to tell me." He began with a sigh. "But I'm asking, please tell me."

Paul bit his lip, thinking.

"I'll tell you what happened. But only if you tell me what's been bothering you." He said.

Daryl paled a little.

"I don't-" he began.

An intense headache hit him. He swayed a little, hand clutching his head.

"Daryl?" Paul asked, eyes wide with concern.

Daryl couldn't answer. The pain seemed to swirl around his mind, and a vision flashed through his thoughts.

  
_A song was playing, over and over. Daryl was naked on a concrete ground, shaking and throwing up._

" _Stop" he begged_.

_There was no one there to hear him. Cuts and dirt covered his entire body. He felt pain like he'd never felt before. He let out a strangled sob._

_Negan kicked the door open, pointing a baseball bat at him._

" _I'll_ _ask you one more time. " he whispered. "Who are you?_ "

_Daryl glared up at him defiantly. He spit out blood._

_"Daryl." He rasped_.

_Negan slammed the baseball bat next to him. The song continued to play._

_"We're on easy street, and it feels so sweet, cos the world is a treat when you're on easy street...."_

  
Daryl gasped as the room around him lurched.

Paul grabbed his arm and held him upright.

"Daryl?" He asked, panicked.

"M' okay..." Daryl rasped, trying not to throw up.

Jesus stared at him in horror.

"How did you know that song?" He whispered.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"You were humming a song. How do you know that song?" Jesus's face had gone completely pale.

His reaction scared Daryl.

"It's... a long story. I'll tell you after you tell me what happened to you."

Paul sighed.

"Promise?"

Daryl ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know if promises mean anything anymore..." he whispered.

Paul gave him a long look.

"Promise anyway."

"Fine. I promise."

Paul took a deep breath.

"Well, as you know, I decided to leave." He began quietly.

Daryl tensed a little, knowing it was his fault Paul had left. Jesus noticed his reaction, and gently touched his arm.

"I was doing okay. I went to a gas station, and there was this guy there. He thought I was a walker, and punched me."

Daryl snorted.

"Who punches a walker?"

"Stop Interrupting. I don't know. Anyway, he said he was sorry. He said he had been alone in that gas station since the outbreak started. I felt bad for him, and he asked me to stay awhile. I decided a few hours wouldn't hurt, he had beer after all.

So you know, we had a few drinks. I was a little tipsy, but he got completely smashed. Like, crazy drunk. He, um, saw the ring I was wearing and asked if I was married. I explained that I wasn't. He started talking about his dead boyfriend, and we talked about... the pain. He told me... he told me he could make all the pain go away. That... he would make me forget everything.." Jesus trailed off, taking a deep breath.

He didn't look at Daryl, but Daryl stared at him with a concerned eyes. He thought he knew where this was going...

"Go on.." he encouraged.

"He... he started kissing my neck. And trying to take my pants off. I begged him to stop, but he just told me that I wanted it. When I pushed him off, he got mad, and started calling me a fag... and I ran. I thought I was safe, but... but.." he stopped, a sob escaping his mouth.

Daryl saw red. He had never been so angry in his life. His hands gripped the edges of the bed so hard his knuckles turned white. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"He followed me, and punched me... I couldn't... I didn't want..." he sobbed again. "I killed him Daryl, I killed him."

Daryl wondered why Paul seemed so upset about killing the man. He had killed other people before, and this man certainly deserved it. If Paul hadn't already killed him, Daryl would have gone out and killed him himself. 

As if reading his thoughts, Paul said,

"I didn't just kill him. I... couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I just kept slamming his head into a tree, over and over. Even after he was dead, I kept going. I was so scared, Daryl.."

Daryl didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to comfort someone. He didn't know what to say. He could only grip the side of the bed, staring at Paul.

Paul looked up at him, tears in his eyes.

"Do you ever think that we should just stop doing this?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... stop trying. Stop trying to survive. Stop trying to get civilization close to what it was before. Because no matter how hard we try, there's always going to be people like him..." 

Daryl closed his eyes.

"No. I don't think we should stop. I'm not ready to give up. Not yet. If you give up, you're letting people like him win."

There was a beat of silence.

"Tell me what's been going on." Jesus said, looking at Daryl.

Daryl thought about denying everything for a minute. But when he saw Jesus staring at him with wide blue eyes, he knew he couldn't keep it a secret anymore.

"I've been having nightmares.." he began. "Every night, I dream Death is talking to me. I dream about... this different life. You're always there. I thought that maybe if I made you leave, maybe if you hated me, that the dreams would stop." He admitted.

Jesus stared at him in shock.

Daryl was dreaming of their past life? That's how he knew the song?

"That's what you've been doing? Trying to make me hate you?" He asked in disbelief.

Daryl nodded slowly.

Daryl looked down and noticed his hands were shaking. Frowning, he shoved them under his arms so Paul couldn't see how badly he was feeling. How nervous he was.

Paul closed his eyes and rubbed his temples a minute.

"Come here." He finally said.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"You're shaking. Just come here."

Daryl stared at him, not moving.

"For Pete's sake." Paul muttered, scooting over to Daryl.

He wrapped his arms around Daryl's shoulders, and Daryl tensed.

"Stop tensing." Paul demanded. "I need this right now, and so do you."

"Why are you helping me? After everything I did to you?" Daryl asked quietly.

Paul pulled back to look Daryl in the eyes. He wanted to tell Daryl how much he loved him in that moment, but he couldn't.

"Because that's what friends do, Daryl."

*****

They sat next to each other for the rest of the day, rarely talking. They both needed someone. They both needed comfort.

Daryl never thought he'd see the day that Paul broke. But today was that day.

Paul never thought he'd see the day that Daryl opened up and comforted him. But today was that day.

It was night, and neither of them could sleep.

"You should really eat..." Paul said quietly.

Neither of them had left the room all day.

Daryl scowled.

"So should you."

"If I get something to eat, will you?" Jesus asked.

Daryl gave him annoyed look.

"If it gets you to shut up."

Jesus smiled a little, and left the room to find some food.

He ran into Carol in the supply room.

"Hey." She greeted. "How's it going with Daryl?"

Jesus sighed.

"We're... working through some problems." He admitted.

Carol smiled a knowing smile.

"You know, when you were gone, he was miserable. I think he blames himself that you left. He stopped eating. Was sleeping even worse than usual."

Paul felt his heart skip a beat. Was Daryl really that worried for him?

He grabbed some cereal off the shelf.

"I'll um, see you later." Jesus replied, not quite knowing what to say.

"So you're staying then?" She asked.

Jesus nodded, and Carol looked pleased.

"Good."

****

"Paul, really. Eat." Daryl demanded.

Paul looked at his bowl of cereal, feeling nauseous.

"I'm trying.." he muttered.

He managed to shove a bite into his mouth, and Daryl looked satisfied.

After a few more bites, Daryl said,

"We should get some sleep."

Jesus nodded, setting his bowl on the ground, climbing into bed.

"Goodnight, Daryl."

"Goodnight, Paul."

 

_Death sat on a pile of bones, watching Daryl through a crystal ball._

_"Hm." He muttered. "Interesting."_

_"You always did like messing with mortal's love lives." A voice said from behind him._

_Death froze and felt a flicker of fear. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was._

_"Life?" He whispered._

_Kisses were pressed against his bone neck._

_"You knew I'd find a way back to you, didn't you?" Life asked, breath hot in his ear._

_Death shivered_.

 _Life moved to sit next to Death on_ _the pile of bones._

_Death turned to face him._

_"How did you get here?" He asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer._

_Life's lips were set in a firm line._

_"I made a deal with the devil."_

_Death closed his eyes._

_"Why. Why would you do that?"_

_"Because. I can't live without you. Or, I suppose in this case, be dead without you."_

" _What's the deal_?"

 _"That's between the devil and myself." Life replied_.

_He looked with interest at the crystal ball in front of him._

_"Why them?" Life asked, pointing to the ball. "Why did you chose them, out of all the couples in the world?"_

_Death turned to face Life, his red eyes blazing._

_"Because they reminded me of us the most."_

  
Daryl woke up, gasping. Jesus was at his side in an instant.

"I couldn't sleep, and I heard you...You sounded upset."Jesus said.

Daryl didn't realize he was crying until Jesus gently wiped the tear from his face.

"Want to tell me about it?" Paul asked gently.

"Not now." Daryl rasped. "I can't talk about it now."

Jesus gave him a knowing look, and stayed next to him until he fell asleep.

****

Maggie and Glenn sat on the snow covered ground, taking quietly.

"What do you think happened to Jesus?" Maggie asked.

She had seen his face, and like the rest of the group, she was worried.

Glenn shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm just glad that Daryl's been helping him with whatever it is. I heard them fighting the other day. I'm glad they've patched things up."

Maggie smiled a little.

"You know how Beth and I have a room next to Rick? Well, whenever Carl's not there, I see Michonne sneaking in....  
I wonder what they're up to?"

Glenn faked a shudder.

"Not sure I want to know, Mags."

***

T-dog and Carl walked through the chilly woods.

"I know your dad's been busy lately, but I thought I should teach you how to shoot." T-dog said.

Carl's eyes went wide.

"Really?" He asked excitedly.

"Really. I already cleared it with your dad. Just let me set up a few things..."

T-dog went to work setting up targets. He came back and slowly showed Carl how to load a gun, gun safety, and how to hold it.

Carl took a few shots, and on his third try, he hit the target. He hit it a few more times, and grinned up at T-dog. He patted Carl on the back.

"That was great!" He exclaimed. "Let me just go reset the targets..."

He walked a few feet away, his back turned to the woods. A walker stumbled out, drawn by the noise of the gunshots. T-dog continued on, oblivious, while Carl examined his gun.

Hearing a snarl, T-dog whirled around. Carl cried out, realizing what was about to happen. He raised his gun, preparing to shoot, but he couldn't shoot the walker without hitting T-dog as well. Unarmed, T-dog desperately tried to push the walker away before it bit into his neck.

Carl called out, yelling for help. 

"Run." T-dog gargled. "Go...Carl..." his eyes rolled back, and he went limp.

Terrified, Carl ran back to the base. He found Rick, and broke down sobbing while he tried to explain what had happened.

***

The entire group stood over the hole in the ground while Glenn and Gabriel slowly lowered T-dog's corpse in. Beth was crying, her face buried into Maggie's neck.

Everyone stood there solemnly as Rick covered the grave with dirt, and Father Gabriel said a few words.

It was dark. The snow fell on them, sticking to their skin and hair. It coated the grave with a fresh layer of snow. 

Daryl stood next to Paul, who stared at the grave sadly.

Hershel said a few words, and then they were done.

The group walked back inside, knowing that T-dog would never join them again.

 

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

  
Jesus sat at the guard tower, drowsily watching the area around him. His fingers were numb, and he doubted he could shoot anything from the guard tower even if he wanted to.

It was mind numbingly boring sitting at the guard tower alone, and he missed the days when he'd keep watch with Daryl back at Alexandria.

It was around midnight, and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. He was usually wide awake at midnight, but it was always harder to stay alert when you had to. He doubted that any danger would fall upon the group, especially at this time of night, but it was better safe than sorry.

****

Daryl stared out the window, desperately wishing he could sleep. He had grown used to Paul being there whenever he had nightmares, and it was odd not having the other man next to him.

There was a draft coming from the window, and Daryl shivered. He wondered if Paul was cold, and what he was thinking about.

He thought about joining Paul outside, but decided against it.

He peered out the window and could vaguely make out Paul's outline against the shadows.

Sighing, he turned away from the window. He was about to get into bed when there was a knock at the door.

Daryl debated ignoring it. After all, it was late. He eventually decided to answer it, since it could be important.

He swung open the door, and found Rick standing in the empty hallway.

Daryl was struck by how tired he looked. He had grown his beard out, and it was completely grey. His eyes had bags under them, and his posture was poor.

"I hope I didn't wake you." Rick said.

Daryl shook his head.

"Nah. What is it?"

"There's something I need you to come see..."

Rick looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Daryl shifted nervously.

"Sure." He responded.

Daryl followed Rick to a door that had been previously locked.

"I got Jesus to pick the locks." Rick explained. "I wanted to see what was behind the door."

He opened the door, revealing a set of stairs leading into darkness. Rick stepped aside, and let Daryl go first.

The further Daryl went down the stairs, the worse it began to smell.

Frowning, he looked at Rick for an explanation, but Rick said nothing.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rick took a deep breath and turned on a flashlight.

Daryl gagged.

Hundreds of bodies lay across the floor, In a rotting, decaying mess.

"I recognize this place..." Daryl said quietly. "Neagan kept Paul and I chained to one of those rooms over there. But there weren't any bodies last time..."

Rick looked slightly green.

"What should we do about this? It would take forever to move all the bodies, but if we don't, the whole place will start to smell soon. And I don't think finding another place to stay is really an option..."

Daryl ran his hands through his hair, thinking.

"Has anyone else seen this?" He asked.

Rick shook his head.

"No."

Daryl looked around the room at the bodies.

"We're gonna have to move them, I guess."

****

Aaron stood outside the base, watching Jesus sit and keep watch. He had been watching the group for quite some time now, and he decided to approach them about staying in Alexandria.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the shadows. He watched Jesus stiffen and aim a riffle at him.

"Please don't let me die tonight..." he muttered. "Eric will kill me if I die tonight."

Aaron dropped his weapons on the ground and put his hands in the air.

"Don't shoot!" He called. "I come in peace!"

As he approached the front gates, Jesus looked at him wearily.

Gun pointed to Arron's head, Jesus opened the front gates.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Jesus asked, though he already knew who Aaron was.

"My name is Aaron. I came from a town called Alexandria. It's safe there. I wish to talk to your leader, Rick, about joining us."

"Did you have to come at one in the morning, Aaron?" Jesus asked, exhausted.

"It's the time I felt least threatened." Aaron replied, sounding apologetic.

Jesus let out a sigh and gestured Aaron forward.

****

"How are we going to take care of the bodies, Daryl? We can't just drag them up the stairs one by one." Rick protested.

"I don't know. It will just have to be a slow process." Daryl replied, frustrated.

"Rick?" A voice called from upstairs.

Daryl's head whipped around when he heard Paul.

Rick raised an eyebrow and his reaction, and Daryl felt slightly embarrassed.

"I'll be up in a minute!" Rick called.

"Okay... well, um. Try to hurry, would you?" Paul said, sounding nervous.

Daryl didn't hesitate. He turned and walked up the stairs, not caring that Rick was giving him a look.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, staring at Paul.

He had a gun to a man's head, and he looked very uneasy.

"Daryl?" He asked with surprise. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Daryl scowled, looking at the man next to Jesus.

"You know how it is." He muttered, hinting at his nightmares.

Paul looked concerned and was about to reply, when Rick said,

"What's going on here?"

Jesus shrugged.

"I honestly have no clue. You're going to have to talk to Aaron."

Rick closed his eyes, and pulled out his pistol. He aimed it at Aaron.

"Go back and keep watch, Jesus. I'll take care of it from here."

"Oh. Um, okay." Paul replied, turning and walking away.

Daryl started to follow him, but Rick grabbed his arm and held him back.

"I need you to stay with me." Rick said softly .

Daryl glanced uncertainly at Paul, but he nodded and followed Rick anyway.

Rick led Aaron to an empty room and pushed him into a chair, while Daryl took his bag.

"Talk." He said firmly.

Aaron visibly paled.

"I came from a town called Alexandria. It is a town with ample supplies and walls built around it. We are looking for people to join us and make our community stronger. I've been watching your group for some time, and I think you'd make a great addition to Alexandria. Inside my bag are pictures of the town, and some food, to show you what we have. We've planted an indoor garden and have fruit trees all throughout the town."

Rick and Daryl shared a look before Rick dumped out the contents of Aaron's bag.

He sorted through the pictures and supplies, humming softly.

"Why should we trust you?" Rick asked.

"You probably shouldn't trust me. It would be stupid to place blind trust in me. But I can show you the town, and you can decide if you want to join or not."

Rick looked at Daryl and sighed.

"Tie him up."

"What?" Aaron asked, panicked.

Rick ignored him, and Daryl set to work tying him to the chair. Once Daryl was satisfied with his work, They left the room, leaving Aaron alone.

"What do you think?" Rick whispered. "It would certainly solve our problem."

"I think we should check it out." Daryl replied.

Rick bit his lip, looking thoughtful.

"Go relieve Jesus from guard duty. I'll send Glenn out to take his place. We'll talk about this as a group tomorrow."

***

Jesus was bored out of his mind, and a little bitter. He wanted to know what was going on, not just sit out here and freeze to death.

He heard someone climb up the ladder to the guard tower, and he was startled from his thoughts.

Daryl's head appeared, and Jesus relaxed.

"Rick said Glenn will take your place. Go get some sleep. We'll talk about what happened in the morning. "

Frustrated, Jesus followed Daryl inside.

"You can't tell me what happened now?" He asked, irritated.

Daryl gave him an tired look.

"I'm exhausted, Paul."

Jesus's eyes widened a little. He didn't think Daryl had ever admitted he was tired before.

"Okay, Daryl." He replied softly.

He'd let it go, for now.

They walked back to their room together, and both collapsed into bed.

Daryl hated to admit it, but it was so much easier to sleep when Paul was across the room from him.

****

The group stood around Aaron, arguing over what to do.

"We should leave!" Beth exclaimed. "They have supplies, it would benefit all of us."

"We can't just leave. What if it's a trap?" Glenn argued.

"I think we should have faith in God and follow him." Gabriel commented.

Everyone fell silent, giving him a look.

"Can I kill him yet?" Daryl asked.

Jesus shoved him.

"No."

"Just a little?"

Jesus glared, and Daryl fell silent.

"He could be a disciple of God! We must have faith!" Gabriel continued.

"Alright. You can shoot him now." Jesus muttered.

Daryl gave Gabriel a smug look.

Rick looked between the two men, glaring.

"If you two are quite done..."

Jesus straightened a little, and Daryl mumbled an apology.

"We need to make a decision." Rick began, and everyone started talking and arguing at once.

"LISTEN." He yelled, and everyone fell silent. "There's something I found last night. Underneath us, there are hundreds of rotting corpses. We don't know how they got there. We need to consider leaving. If we don't, we need to take care of the bodies immediately."

A few people gagged, and others shouted that they needed to leave.  
Aaron sat tired to a chair, watching the drama unfold.

"Alright, this is no longer a democracy. We're going to see what this new town is like, and if we don't like it, we can always come back and take care of the bodies." Rick stated.

Hershel looked uneasy, but didn't question Rick's leadership.

"Pack your things. We leave tonight."

****

The group arrived outside the gates of Alexandria, looking apprehensive.

A middle aged lady greeted them. She had kind blue eyes, and she smiled.

"Hello. Welcome to Alexandria. My name is Deanna, and I'm the leader here. For safety reasons, we will have to confiscate your weapons."

The group began to protest, but Rick held up a hand, and they fell silent.

"We understand." He said, handing Deanna his pistol.

The rest of the group handed their weapons over grudgingly.

"I would like to talk to each and every one of you individually. Please wait here until I call you in my office."

The guards surrounded them, and Deanna led Rick into an office building.

****

"Rick, is it?" Deana asked pleasantly.

Rick nodded.

Deanna turned on a camera and began recording.

"Please state your full name, and what you did as an occupation."

"Rick Grimes, Police officer."

"Any living relatives?"

"My son, Carl."

"You can go. Call Carl in next."

****

"Full name?" Deanna asked, smiling at Carl.

Carl narrowed his eyes and looked at the camera suspiciously.

"Carl Grimes." He stated uneasily.

"Do you know why your group decided to come here? Do they mean any harm?"

"We would like to be apart of a community. We mean no harm." Carl answered.

Deanna clucked her tongue.

"You can go. Send Daryl in."

****

"Full name and previous occupation?"

Silence.

"Mr. Dixon, this would go a lot faster if you cooperate. "

Silence.

"Any living relatives?"

"No."

Daryl paced the room, picking up random items.

"Do you want to be here, Mr. Dixon?"

Daryl said nothing, and continued pacing.

"I'm trying to understand who you are, Mr. Dixon. Aaron has reported on every one of you. I would like to hear your side of the story, as well as Aaron's. "

Silence.

"Very well. You may go. Send in Jesus."

Daryl tensed a little, and Deanna noticed. She eyed him carefully, making a mental note to keep an eye on him.

****

"Full Name and previous occupation?"

"Paul Rovia. Musician."

He lied. He had to. He couldn't say that he had gone to medical school, only to drop out and make a living off of pick pocketing.

"What kind of musician?"

"Singer and guitar player."

"Any living realities?"

"Not that I know of."

"Very well. Send in Carol."

  
This went on and on, until everyone was questioned.

Deanna showed everyone to their houses.

"You will all have you own houses, unless you chose to live to someone else or have living relatives. Beth, Maggie and Hershel, you will all share a house, for example."

She assigned everyone a house.

Rick, Carl and Michonne decided to share a house, but everyone else chose to be alone.

"Well, we certainly have enough space." Deanna said. "You will all be on the same block, so you're close to each other."

  
It so happened that Daryl's house was next to Jesus's, and Rick wondered if Deanna had done it on purpose.

 

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

  
Jesus walked through his new house slowly, taking in all the details. He was thrilled to have large kitchen again, he loved to cook.

He poked his head into the master bedroom. It had a closet already filled with clothes, and he wondered how Deanna had arranged all of it.

He grabbed a pair of jeans and a white button up before heading to the bathroom. It had been so long since he had taken a hot shower...

He turned the water on, and stripped off his dirty clothes.

Sighing in contentment, he stood under the hot water, letting it pound against his back.

Yes, he had missed Alexandria.

****

Daryl sat in his living room, looking around him. He had never owned a house this nice.

It felt so... wrong. He didn't need a house with 3 bedrooms. He didn't need a nice house in the suburbs. He didn't *deserve* that.

He glanced out the living room window and looked at Paul's house. He wondered what Paul was doing.

He hadn't checked out the rest of the house yet, and he supposed he should.

Groaning, he forced himself off the couch and up the stairs. The carpet felt weird underneath his feet. He had grown used to cement.

Daryl checked out the three bedrooms before deciding which one he wanted. It all felt very surreal. He opened the closet to find it full of vests and ripped jeans, all in his size. Raising an eyebrow, he shut the door. How long had Aaron been watching all of them? Long enough to know his style and size, apparently.

Daryl left the room and entered the bathroom across the hall. He scowled when he turned on the light. There were rubber ducks _everywhere_. They were on the shower curtains, on the rugs, on the toothbrush holder. Everywhere. He looked wearily at the shower. He shouldn't shower. It was a waste of water. He'd just get dirty again. But it had been so long, and he felt grimy and gross.

Giving in, he pulled back the shower curtain. He looked longingly at the soap and shampoo.

Hating himself, he turned on the water. He waited until the bathroom was filled with steam before stepping in. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash away all the blood and dirt.

He scrubbed himself thoroughly, and felt ten times better after stepping out of the shower. Daryl grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He shook his head, water droplets flying from his hair.

There was a knock at the door. Sighing, he went downstairs, fully expecting it to be Rick.

He opened the door and paused. It wasn't Rick. It was a younger woman, standing there with a dazzling smile. Her smile vanished as soon as she saw Daryl. Her jaw dropped a little as her eyes traveled down his body.

Her eyes darted back to his face, and she looked slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, um, Hi. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Jessie. I live a few houses down. Since you're my new neighbor, i thought I should get to know you? I used to be a cosmetologist. Do you want a hair cut?" She rambled, looking at Daryl's stringy hair.

"Um.." Daryl mumbled, thrown off guard.

He was about to say no, when she stepped inside.

"You need a haircut. Sit down."

Daryl found himself being pushed into a kitchen chair while Jessie pulled a few things out of her purse.

Grabbing a comb and scissors, she went to work.

"So." She began. "What's your name?"

"Daryl."

"Hm. Daryl. I like that."

She brushed some hair off of his bare shoulders.

"What did you do before all this?"

"I don't really talk about it." He muttered.

She frowned, but said nothing.

There was a moment of silence while she continued to cut.

"Are you seeing anyone?" She asked bluntly.

Daryl choked a little.

"No." He coughed.

"Oh. Well, if you ever want to come over for dinner...." she began with a smirk.

"I'm gay." He blurted.

Wait. _What_? He didn't just say that. He was NOT gay.

"Oh." She said, disappointed. "The offer still stands though. You can come over whenever."

He nodded, not really listening. He felt numb, his mind stopped working.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm gay." He thought.

His mind flashed back to his brother kicking him, calling him a faggot. The nightmares of his father trying to kill him, accusing him of being gay. His mother telling him she'd love him no matter what.....

He closed his eyes.

Jessie stepped back, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"There. Much better." She said softly. "I should be going now. It was nice to meet you."

Daryl could only nod, barely noticing when she left.

****

Paul stood in the kitchen, boiling pasta. He had forgotten how relaxing it was to cook. Grabbing a can of tomato sauce, he threw it in the pan and waited for it to cook.

He leaned against the counter and looked out the window. It was dark, but he could see a figure of a man pacing under the streetlights in front of his house. Squinting, he realized it was Daryl. Paul sighed and watched Daryl pace for 5 minutes, before he decided to invite Daryl in.

"Are you going to keep walking by my house, or are you going to come in?" He called through the open window.

Daryl froze, and slowly walked to the front door.

Jesus opened the door, then gasped.

Daryl looked....good. No, better than good. Fucking amazing.

He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying not to think about it.

"You look good." He said, somewhat awkwardly.

He could've sworn Daryl blushed.

"Are you hungry? I'm making dinner..." Jesus asked hesitantly.

Daryl nodded, and Jesus stepped aside to let him in.

Daryl sat at the kitchen table while Jesus stirred the tomato sauce.

"How are you?" Jesus asked, back turned to Daryl.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably.

"M'fine. You?"

Since when had conversations between them been so awkward?

Jesus hummed.

"Fine, fine. I like your haircut. It suits you."

Daryl nodded, and Jesus began to dish out the spaghetti.

"You know what we need?" He asked, putting a plate in front of Daryl. "Alcohol. We need alcohol."

Daryl couldn't agree more.

****

Half a bottle of whisky later, Daryl sat on the couch while Jesus cleaned up from dinner. He hadn't really meant to get so drunk. But he was so tired, and being around Paul was so confusing...

"Daryl. Come help me. I can't reach this." Paul called.

He stumbled off the couch towards Paul.

Jesus gave him a horrified look.

"Are you drunk? Daryl, how much did you drink? Oh, never mind. Just help me reach this."

Daryl looked down at him.

"You're short. And bossy." He declared.

Jesus raised an eyebrow.

"I am not."

"Mmhm."

Jesus threw his hands up.

"For the love of god. I'll clean up later. I need a drink."

He dried his hands and followed Daryl to the living room.

"Why did you decide to get drunk?" Jesus asked, laughing a little as Daryl stumbled around.

He had never seen Daryl drunk, just tipsy.

"Cause Paul, im tired of dealing with it."

"With what?"

"Stuff." Daryl answered vaguely.

"Yeah... okay. Maybe I shouldn't drink tonight. I have a feeling I should watch you."

Daryl shrugged.

"Getting drunk makes things easier."

"That it does. What the hell, give me the bottle." Jesus said, chugging down a few gulps.

He felt the warmth spread through his chest and he smiled a little.

"There ya go." Daryl said.

****

They were laughing about something, Daryl couldn't remember what.

Jesus put a hand on Daryl's arm. He leaned in a little. God, Daryl smelled so good.

Daryl looked down, mildly panicked. Jesus was touching him. What did that mean? Why did he feel so weird?

He pulled away, and Jesus looked disappointed.

"I should go." Daryl said quietly.

"You could stay, if you want." Jesus replied.

They looked at each other for a long time.

Maybe he was just imagining it, but Jesus thought he could see lust in Daryl's eyes. He shivered.

"No, I should go."

"Alright. I'll see you later, Daryl."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Paul."

****

Daryl woke up on his living room floor. He groaned. His head was pounding, and his muscles were stiff and sore.  
He fully expected Paul to be next to him, and was relieved to find he wasn't. He didn't remember much of what had happened last night. He remembered eating dinner, and drinking, and Paul touching him....

He shook his head.

His thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream.

He groaned as his head throbbed. Opening the door, he went to see what was wrong. He saw Rick and Michonne sprinting towards the front gates. Carol was standing next to Jesus, looking concerned. Daryl smirked a little, seeing that Paul looked about as awful as he felt.

He was relieved that Deanna had returned their weapons yesterday, deciding they weren't a threat. It looked like they were going to need them.

Daryl grabbed his cross bow and knife, running after Rick. Paul watched as he ran by, and then went inside to grab his weapons. He tossed a gun to Carol, and they took off.

Paul was shocked to see that Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene were also in Alexandria, standing by the front gates holding weapons.

He didn't have much time to process it though, as walkers were spilling through the front gates.

"Who left the gate open?" Deanna shrieked.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I-" a young man stuttered.

Deanna whirled around to face her son.

"It was you, Spencer?"

"Yes."

She looked annoyed, but threw him a gun.

Someone screamed. Citizens of Alexandria were backing away, looking terrified. Walkers stumbled towards them, and people started to cry.

"For fucks sake, people! Get your shit together! Kill them before they kill you!" Daryl yelled.

That made them even more terrified. Shots were fired, and screams rang out as someone was bit.

"You're going to fucking die if you don't move!" Daryl yelled, exasperated.

Every one of them held a gun. But they did nothing.

Paul moved next to Daryl.

"Would you stop that?" He hissed. "You're scaring them!"

"The world is falling apart! They SHOULD be scared. Scared means they'll do something about it." Daryl snapped.

Paul was about to reply when a walker slammed into his side.

"Paul!" Daryl yelled, horrified.

He shoved the walker off Paul roughly before putting his knife through its skull.

Jesus let out a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's focus on staying alive for now." Daryl muttered.

They fought through the crowd, killing walkers and people who had been bitten.

They shoved their way to the front gates, slamming it closed before any more walkers could enter.

Both panting, they tried to compose themselves before diving back into battle.

A scream cut through the air, louder than all others.

"Help!" Deanna screamed.

She was cornered against a wall, her gun out of ammunition. She threw the gun to the side, desperately pushing away the walkers snapping at her.

Daryl and Paul tried to get to her, but the crowd was too thick. They watched in horror as the walkers overtook her, and her screams slowly stopped.

****

  
An hour later, the group stood in silence, looking around them. Corpses lay around them, some walkers, some citizens of Alexandria. Deanna and her husband Reg had died, leaving their son, Spencer, alone. Jessie's children and husband had been bitten, and she lay over their bodies, sobbing.

Rick was covered in blood, and looked exhausted.

He looked around at the mess, and was horrified to see Hershel's body, soaked in blood, lifeless on the ground.

Maggie fell next to the body, eyes dazed, while Glenn rubbed her back.

Gabriel solemnly opened the church doors, and invited everyone inside. While the women sat in the church, praying and sobbing, the men began to dig the graves.

*****

Daryl collapsed next to Jesus under a tree, sweating. Despite the snow, they were both hot and exhausted from digging.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken a shower." Daryl complained.

Jesus almost told him that he was grateful he had, because he had smelled heavenly last night. But he refrained from doing so.

"Why does it have to be like this?" He whispered.

They sat in front of Hershel's grave, watching snow fall on top of it.

Daryl sighed.

"I don't know, Paul. "

Paul closed his eyes, and was mortified to feel a few tears escape from his eyes.

Daryl glanced over at him, saying nothing. Instead, he placed a hand over Paul's, and they sat like that for a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Sorry for the wait! I started school again, so I'll try to keep posting as often as I can. 
> 
> If you're curious, Jesus has 4 weeks left. 
> 
> Think he'll make it? ;)

_  
"We're on easy street, and it feels so sweet...."_

_Daryl banged his head against the concrete wall. Blood dripped down the side of his face._

_A note slid underneath the door, and he hesitantly picked it up._

_It said, "Go now."_

_He stared at it. It had to be a trick. He would escape, they would drag him back, and then it would be 20 times worse._

_He couldn't stay here, though. Not much longer. He'd rather die. And he'd be willing to die, if the group were safe. But they weren't. He needed to at least try to escape, for their sake._

_Daryl pushed the door open slowly, cringing as it creaked. The hallway was deserted, and he began to walk quietly towards the exit._

_Voices came from a few feet away, and Daryl ducked into an empty room, heart hammering._

_He heard someone coughing and choking._

_"Where is he?" A familiar voice demanded._

_Daryl inched closer to the door, listening intently._

_"I can't tell you-" Dwight sputtered._

_Daryl heard a crack, followed by a whimper._

_"You'll want to remember just who you're fucking with, dear."_

_Paul_.

_Daryl wanted to scream at him. He wanted to yell that it wasn't safe here, that he needed to leave now._

_But he stayed behind the door, frozen._

_"He left. I don't know where. Please..." Dwight begged._

_There was a crash, then a moment of silence._

_Through the crack of the door, Daryl could see Jesus walking towards him, spattered in blood._

_Daryl swung the door open, relieved Paul was okay_.

_Jesus jumped, startled, and swung his knife out of instinct. It hit Daryl's shoulder. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by pain._

_"Daryl? Oh my god! Daryl, are you okay? No, you're not okay, I just stabbed you. I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else and I-" he was cut off as Daryl smashed their lips together._

_Paul's eyes widened as the breath was knocked out of him._

_Daryl pulled back as Paul continued to stare at him, open mouthed._

_"I love you" Paul blurted._

_Daryl felt his own eyes widen, and he took a step back. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. They had never...he had never... Paul had never said that before._

_"You just stabbed me." He protested, still not quite believing what he had heard._

_"I already said that I didn't mean to, and-"_

_"I love you too_." 

  
Daryl woke with a start. He was sitting next to Jesus, leaning against the tree in front of Hershel's grave. Jesus gave him a concerned look.

"Good nap?" He asked.

Daryl frowned.

"You shouldn't have let me doze off like that. There's work to do."

"You needed the rest." Jesus said with a shrug.

The snow had stopped falling, and Daryl felt oddly warm.

Looking around, he realized there was no one in sight, and the sun had gone down.

"Why are you still here?" Daryl asked, bluntly.

"Do you want me to go?"

"I just mean... why didn't you just leave with everyone else?"

Jesus rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to just leave you alone in the snow, Daryl. You'd probably accidentally die without me."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!"

"I wouldn't die-"

Daryl suddenly stopped arguing, and looked at Hershel's grave, remembering what had happened. Jesus followed his line of sight and his eyes softened a bit.

"It will be different, with him gone." Jesus said quietly.

Daryl nodded.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Daryl asked,

"What are you thinking about?"

Jesus glanced up in surprise.

"Why do you ask?"

"You just always seem like you're thinking of something... important. Don't you feel lonely, living in your own little world?"

Jesus smiled a little.

"Don't you feel powerless living in other people's worlds?"

Daryl paused, taken aback.

"Sometimes. Right now, I guess."

"So would you rather be lonely, or Powerless, Daryl?"

"I think I feel like both at the moment." He responded quietly.

Jesus hummed.

"Yeah? I think I do too."

Silence.

"You should come over." Daryl said suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean... if you want to. You don't have to, I just...." he trailed off.

Jesus smiled again.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

  
*****

Daryl and Jesus sat at the kitchen table in a comfortable silence. Jesus had insisted on making tea earlier, and although Daryl wouldn't admit it, he appreciated the warmth.

There was a knock at the door, and Jesus went to answer it.

He opened the door to see Aaron, who was obviously surprised to see Jesus instead of Daryl.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" Aaron asked quietly.

Jesus glanced back at Daryl and sighed.

"No, you're fine. I just think.... Daryl's having a hard time coping with the situation." There was a slight pause. "He's acting a bit strange."

Aaron nodded sympathetically.

"Yes, that's understandable. I came by to see if you all wanted to come have dinner? Eric and I thought it would be nice for some of us to get together.... after everything that happened."

Jesus paused, glancing at Daryl again.

"I think that's a good idea."

****

After a long debate, Jesus finally convinced Daryl to go to dinner. He had even managed to talk him into taking a shower and changing.

They sat on the couch next to Rick and Michonne. Maggie and Beth sat on the ground, while Glenn tried to comfort them both. Gabriel had stopped by briefly, but left because of all the work that needed to be done at the church. Carol had baked cookies, and was now helping Aaron and Eric in the kitchen.

Carl was sitting next to Beth, whispering something in her ear. Rick watched them, eyebrows raised. They had been spending a lot of time together lately. 

Aaron came in awhile later, and announced that dinner was ready.

Everyone shuffled into the dinning room, and sat down.

It turned out that Aaron and Eric weren't bad at cooking. The soup they had prepared was perfect for the dreary, winter day.

The group tried their best to keep a conversation going, but it proved difficult. No one was really in the mood to talk. Not after everything that had happened.

After a few hours, Jesus quietly excused himself. He thanked Aaron and Eric for dinner and left.

He was only slightly surprised when Daryl followed suit a few minutes later.

After they left, Aaron turned to Rick.

"So, how long have they been together?"

Eric elbowed him and Rick started laughing.

"They aren't together, as far as I know."

Aaron looked slightly embarrassed and he cleared his throat.

"Oh, I just assumed, after watching your group and all...."

Rick laughed even harder, and everyone smiled for the first time all day.

*****

Daryl sat in his living room. It felt empty. He could see the light on in Paul's room, and he wondered how he was doing.

Curious, he got up and went to the window. He peered into Paul's living room, though he knew he probably shouldn't.

Daryl was surprised to see Paul sitting on the couch, head buried into his hands.

He stood at the window for a long while, just watching Paul.

10 minutes later, Paul looked up. His eyes were red, and he made eye contact with Daryl. He looked startled at first, but then he gave a small wave.

Daryl looked away quickly, and went upstairs, embarrassed he had been caught.

 Jesus wished he could join him.

******

Daryl had awful dreams throughout the night, and slept poorly.

  
" _You know..." Life began. "Your lips are a great shade of red. They match your eyes_."

" _Oh, do shut up." Death snapped._

_"I can see why you chose them." Life continued, ignoring Death. "You're a lot like Daryl. You're taking your anger out on me."_

_Deaths eyes flashed dangerously._

" _Keep talking. I dare you_."

 _Life smirked_.

" _Sure. I think you're scared, just like him-"_

 _He was cut off as Death slammed him against a wall of bones. He lifted his hand threateningly_.

_"I've stopped your heart before, and I'll stop it again." He growled._

_Death expected to see fear, but was instead met with rage_.

_"How dare you?" Life hissed. "How dare you use that against me. What you're doing, this isn't love."_

_Death took a step back, staring Life straight in the eyes._

" _Maybe I don't love you."_

  
******

There was a knock at the door, and Daryl groaned. It was still early, and he had _just_ fallen asleep.

Bleary eyed, he opened the door to see Jesus standing there.

"What?" He snapped.

"We're having a memorial for Hershel. Maggie and Beth want a chance to say a few words. They didn't really get a chance to yesterday."

"I'm not going."

"Yes, you are. You are apart of this group. Please, for Hershel."

"No, Paul! I don't want to go. I don't... I don't care anymore."

"Don't say that. You don't mean that."

Daryl's hands were shaking. He closed his eyes.

"I don't give a damn, Paul."

"Daryl, you give so many damns they're visible from space. Now get dressed. You'll regret it if you don't go."

"I... can't Paul. I can't." He rasped, and for one terrible moment, Jesus thought he might cry.

Jesus let out a deep breath.

"You can. I'll be with you the whole time, okay?"

There was silence.

"Daryl. I know it's hard. But please. Maggie wants to see you."

Daryl nodded slowly, numbly.

"I don't know why it's so bad. It's just... something about it feels like I'm losing him a second time..."

Jesus tried to keep a straight face.

He said nothing, worried his voice would betray him.

*****

Everyone from Alexandria crammed into the tiny church. There was a service being held for each of the deceased citizens.

Daryl and Jesus stood In the back of the church in a corner, where no one could really see them.

Daryl liked it better that way.

Being in the back meant that no one would be able to see his emotions, see him slowly starting to break.

Beth stood up, and began to talk about her father.

Jesus nodded solemnly at her words.

"He was the best father I could ever ask for. He was there for me every single day, and I will be forever grateful for the time we had together."

There was a strangled noise next to him, and Jesus turned to see Daryl looking utterly miserable.

Rick turned around, and looked a Daryl for a moment, before turning to Jesus and nodding towards the church doors. Jesus nodded back, and grabbed Daryl's arm.

Daryl allowed Jesus to lead him out of the church without protesting.

When they arrived back a Daryl's house, Jesus led him inside to the couch.

"What are you doin?" Daryl rasped.

"I'm going to stay with you until you're okay."

Daryl glared.

"I don't want you to stay."

Jesus sighed.

"Yes, Daryl. I know. But you _need_ me to stay."

Daryl glared again, but his face cracked. He completely broke down. His head dropped into his hands, and muffled sobs could be heard.

Jesus sat next to him, wrapping him in a hug. Daryl tensed.

"Please...go..." Daryl rasped brokenly.  
  
"Daryl." Paul began gently. "It's okay to break down sometimes. You can't always be strong. Part of breaking down is having to admit that you need someone to help you."

Daryl's body went limp, and he fell into Paul's side.

Paul stroked his hair gently.

"It's okay, Daryl. You don't need to be strong. Not now." 

******

Daryl eventually stopped. He pulled away from Paul, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Don't do that." Paul snapped, annoyed.

"Do what?"

"You know what! Pull away. And I don't mean physically, Daryl. You can't leave. Not now."

"And why not?"

"Because, Daryl!"

"That's not a reason." Daryl said, eyes cold.

"Because I couldn't take it if you did!" Jesus burst out.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Daryl still wouldn't look him in the eyes. After all, he knew how to deal with fighting. But this? Not a clue.

"What are you so afraid of, Daryl?" Jesus asked, forcing his voice to stay soft.

Daryl looked up at him.

"You. I'm afraid of you." 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! 2,000 hits. Thank you for all the comments and Kudos! 
> 
> Also, if you want something specific to happen, leave a comment and I'll try to incorporate it into the fic at some point. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> XOXO

  
Jesus paled.

"What?" He whispered.

Daryl let out a sigh and his head fell into his hands.

When he didn't answer, Jesus began to get irritated.

"Why are you afraid of _me_? Have I ever given you any reason to be afraid of me?" He demanded.

Daryl looked up at him.

"It's... not like that." He began wearily. "I don't know how to explain it, Paul."

"You're going to damn well try. You owe it to me."

"I don't owe you anything." Daryl hissed, eyes flashing.

The two men stared at each other, glaring and not breaking eye contact. Jesus felt his pulse quicken. How could Daryl say that? How could he be afraid? He didn't have a single god damn reason to be afraid.

"I don't understand you." Jesus muttered. "I really don't. I'm leaving."

Daryl watched him get up. He watched him walk to the front door. Fuck. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want Paul to leave.

"I'm afraid because... because you make me feel..... " Daryl said quietly, fiercely. " _You_ _make_ _me_ _feel_. And sometimes I just want to stop."

Jesus paused, hand on the door knob.

He turned around and made eye contact with Daryl.

"If you hate it so fucking much, Daryl, then I'll leave. God forbid you actually feel something."

"I didn't mean-" Daryl started, but Jesus was already out the door.

****

Daryl paced around Alexandria. He passed kids playing in the snow, their mothers watching them through the kitchen window.

He didn't belong here. He didn't belong in a nice suburban neighborhood. He never did, and he never would.

He hated the walls around him. He hated how.... _normal_ it felt. He didn't deserve this.

Daryl kicked a chunk of ice across the road, and it hit Rick's foot.

Rick was busy talking to Michonne and Maggie. Ever since Deanna had died, Rick had been more or less the leader of Alexandria.

He glanced down as ice hit his boot, then looked at Daryl.

"Sorry." Daryl muttered.

Rick took in Daryl's miserable look, and frowned a little.

"Could I talk to you for a moment, Daryl?"

Daryl shrugged, and Rick took it as a yes.

He turned back to Michonne and Maggie.

"I'll be back in a minute."

He led Daryl a few feet away from them, before leaning in close to whisper,

"What's wrong?"

Daryl scowled.

"Why do you think something's wrong?"

"Because I can tell. You look like you want to murder someone. I think you're scaring the children." Rick gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Daryl looked at the ground and kicked another chunk of ice.

"M'fine."

"Spill it." Rick ordered.

Daryl groaned.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Rick crossed his arms, and gave him a look that said, "I could wait here all Day."

"Finneee." Daryl gave in.

He took a deep breath.

"It just... I came to terms with something the other day. Something that would make my dad and brother really angry. They would kill me if they knew. Or if they were still alive, I guess. And it's just, there's someone that's been making me question everything. Someone that's making me think. Someone that makes me.... _feel_."

Rick's eyes flickered with amusement. He didn't think he had ever heard Daryl say so much before, and it certainly wasn't hard to guess who he was talking about.

"Okay, well....Did you tell them what you're feeling?"

"I tried but.... I couldn't. I couldn't put my thoughts into words. Not in that moment anyway."

Rick gave him a calculating look.

"Try to say it again."

And with that, he walked away.

Still scowling, Daryl left the front gates of Alexandria.

****

About an hour later, Rick ran into Jesus, who was pacing in front of the small church.

He let out a sigh.

Really, Daryl and Jesus were completely hopeless. They were both obviously obviously upset about something, yet neither of them chose to talk about it.

He rolled his eyes, and went to talk to Jesus.

"Hey, Jesus, you doing okay?" He called.

Jesus glanced up, and walked a few steps closer to Rick so they wouldn't have to yell.

"Yeah, of course. Do you need something?"

Rick shook his head.

"No, no. I just wanted to see if you were okay. You know with... all the events that have happened in the past few days. Losing Hershel, and dealing with everything else.."

Jesus gave a forced smile.

"I'm fine. How are you? You seem to be getting everything settled. You're doing a great job running Alexandria. Everyone really looks up to you."

The subject change was anything but settle.

"I appreciate that. Say, Daryl was acting a bit strange this morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Rick asked, watching Jesus carefully.

Jesus winced.

"Can't say that I do." He lied.

Rick nodded slowly.

"Right. Well, just so you know, you can come talk to me anytime."

Jesus smiled genuinely this time.

"Thanks, Rick."

*****

Daryl stomped through the woods, not knowing where he was going. He didn't care where he was going.

He needed to get away from Alexandria. Away from all the perfect houses with perfect picket fences and perfect people.

The snow crunched softly underneath his feet, and he found the sound oddly relaxing.

His bow was slung over his shoulder, and being in the woods alone felt more like home than anything else.

There was something about the smell of snow in the woods that just felt so right.

Glancing down, he noticed the small footprints of a rabbit imprinted in the snow.

Taking his bow off his shoulder, he crept forward slowly, following the footprints.

He walked for about 5 minutes, before he spotted the rabbit.

He drew a bow back, and took a small step forward....

There was a loud crack, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with pain in his ankle.

The rabbit bolted away.

Daryl grunted in pain and looked down.

He swore when he saw black metal teeth clamped around his ankle.

An animal trap. _A_ _fucking animal_ _trap_.

Taking a deep breath, he slid down the side of a tree until he sat on the ground.

His ankle throbbed, and blood spilled out along the edges of the teeth.

"Shit" he muttered.

He desperately clawed at the teeth around his ankle, trying to free himself.

It only made everything worse.

Blood poured down his ankle at an alarming rate, and he felt dizzy.

He was too far way from Alexandria to call for help. Or maybe he wasn't, but it would be more likely that a walker would get to him first.

Daryl threw his crossbow away from his body and fell onto his side, hissing in pain.

Using his arms, he crawled forward a few inches before hearing,

 _Clank_.

Groaning, he realized the trap was attached to the base and of a tree, and he couldn't free himself.

The world lurched sideways, and he shook his head, trying to pull himself together.

He felt the sticky blood sliding into his boots. His ankle was starting to go numb.

Parts of the world around him began to go black. He could only see spots now.

Daryl pulled his ankle forward in one last attempt to free himself. A jolt of pain traveled up his leg, and then the rest of the world went black.

****

Rick knocked on Daryl's door.

Daryl was supposed to keep watch with Gabriel tonight, and he was supposed to be at the guard post an hour ago.

"Daryl! Open up!" Rick called.

When Daryl didn't answer, Rick began to worry.

He knew that Daryl had gone out earlier this afternoon, but he had never seen him return.

"He's probably just with Jesus." Rick thought, calming down a little. "Maybe they're talking about stuff finally."

He hated to interrupt them, but Daryl had to do his job.

Rick walked next door to Jesus's house and knocked on the door.

Jesus opened the door a few seconds later with a smile.

"Hey, Rick."

"Hey. Is Daryl with you?" Rick asked, cutting to the point.

Jesus frowned.

"No. Why?"

"He was supposed to be at the guard tower an hour ago. He left to go hunting earlier, but I never saw him come back."

Jesus felt a wave of nausea hit him.

"He's not at home?"

"No."

"Check Carol's. If he's not there... then maybe we should go out and look for him."

****

30 minutes later, Jesus was starting to panic. They had asked almost everyone if they had seen Daryl lately, but the answer was always, "No."

Jesus wondered if he had decided to leave Alexandria. Something told him that he hadn't, though. Something just felt wrong.

A few minutes later, they had formed a search group.

Gabriel and Beth volunteered to stay behind and watch Alexandria while they left.

Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie and Jesus left shortly after.

Maggie could see the panic on Jesus's face, and she felt a wave of sympathy.

"Hey." She murmured softly, placing a hand on his arm. "We'll find him. I'm sure he just forgot about guard duty. He's probably just out there sulking about something. That's what Daryl does, after all."

Jesus smiled at her weakly.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Everyone spit up, and began searching for Daryl.

They had no chance of tracking him, as it was dark and none of them were great trackers in the first place.

Jesus walked through the woods, flashlight lighting his path.

The air was freezing. It burned his nose and throat.

"Oh, Daryl. Don't you know not to go off by yourself by now?" He muttered.

****

2 hours later, and Jesus couldn't feel his fingers. Hell, he couldn't feel _anything_ at this point.

He ran into Rick, who looked exhausted.

"Maybe we should give up for tonight, and try again in the morning." Rick suggested quietly.

Jesus glared. If Daryl really was in trouble, he'd freeze before they found him.

"You can go back. But I'm going to keep looking until I find him." He retorted.

Rick let out a small sigh.

He was about to consider giving up, when they heard Glenn yell,

"I found him!"

****

It took Jesus 10 minutes to get the trap off. His hands were shaking badly, and they were so numb he could barley work them.

It didn't help that he was terrified as fuck.

Daryl lay unconscious, lips blue, a pile of blood surrounding the lower half of his body.

Rick and Glenn carried him back to Alexandria, since Jesus was in no shape to help.

They didn't even check to see if Daryl was still alive. They just carried him back to Alexandria in silence.

****

It was one in the morning. They had knocked on Denise's door an hour ago, Daryl still unconscious. She had gone pale at seeing Daryl's leg.

Rick had whispered,

"We don't even know if he's still alive..."

He hadn't meant Jesus to hear, but he had.

With wide eyes, Denise had asked them lay Daryl down on a bed, then politely asked them to leave.

Everyone but Jesus had gone home and went to bed.

He was about ready to go home, when Denise opened the door.

"You can come on in. He's alive, but he's not doing very well, I'm afraid. He's still unconscious. I'm sorry, I did my best..." she trailed off, a small sob escaping.

Jesus stood up and wrapped her in a hug. She tensed, surprised.

"Thank you..." he whispered.

She nodded shakily.

"Come on. You're freezing. Let me make you some tea."

****

Jesus sat next to Daryl's bed in an uncomfortable wooden chair, sipping on tea that was way too hot.

Denise had gone to bed, but Jesus knew he would be unable to sleep.

He put his hand over Daryl's, and closed his eyes.

It was only a matter of seconds before the tears began to trickle down his cheek.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 weeks left! 
> 
> As always, thank you for the comments and Kudos! You all are so lovely! 
> 
> :)

  
Jesus had no clue what time it was.

His eyes were still closed, and he was beginning to doze off. He really shouldn't... he should stay awake in case Daryl woke up....

Jesus rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. Daryl was looking a little better now, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Daryl's hand no longer felt like ice under his. His lips were no longer blue. He looked okay.

Well, maybe he could take a quick nap. Daryl seemed to be doing better. He'd just rest his eyes, only for a few minutes...

"Goodnight, Daryl." He whispered, falling asleep a few seconds later.

  
_Death smiled_.

_"Do you see the things he does for you?"_

_Daryl sat across from Death, tied to a plastic folding chair. He glared._

_"I didn't know they had plastic chairs in hell." He commented._

_Death laughed, startling Daryl. It wasn't a laugh you'd expect from death. It wasn't evil. It was... warm. Happy. Bright._

_"Oh, Daryl. This isn't hell."_

_"It sure feels like it." Daryl muttered._

_"No, it is the place of in between. When people die, they come here for a brief time. I decide if they go to Heaven or Hell. And yes, that means I will decide for you some day. You might want to mind your manners around me, Mr. Dixon."_

_Daryl scowled_.

" _The world's already gone to hell. Do your worst_."

 _Death laughed again_.

_"Daryl. You are so very broken, and no one cares to notice. Believe me, it gets worse."_

_Daryl_ _said nothing, glaring_.

 _"I don't think you see it, not yet." Death murmured. "You don't see that you're broken. You don't see the person that can fix you_."

_An image of Paul appeared in front of them. He was sound asleep on the chair next to Daryl's hospital bed._

_Death sat next to Daryl. He leaned close and whispered,_

_"He wants to say 'I love you' but keeps it to 'Goodnight'. Because love will mean falling, and you're afraid of heights."_

_Daryl stared at the image In front of him, face expressionless._

_"You forget I know what you're thinking." Death said softly._

_Daryl turned to look into the red eyes next to him_.

_"What am I thinking, then?"_

_"You're confused, that's for sure. You don't believe that he loves you, because no one could ever love you. No one will ever love the monster that your father turned you in to." Death began quietly. "But Daryl, you must remember. 'Les Monstres aussi tombent amoureur.'"_

_Daryl remained silent._

_"Tell me, Daryl. I was there when you killed your father. Of course I was. Do you think you can kill a monster without becoming one?"_

" _Yes_."

" _Why_."

_"Because..." he gestured to the image of Paul. "Of him."_

  
Jesus woke up a few hours later. It was still dark outside.

He ran a hand over his face wearily, letting out a sigh.

His back was killing him. Sleeping on a wooden chair was probably not his best idea.

"You know, this is your fault." He muttered to Daryl.

He closed his eyes, and continued talking.

"I really can't believe you. An animal trap. You walked into an animal trap. Fuck, Daryl. You're so _stupid_. Why do you have to go out alone? Why do you have to be a stubborn ass? Seriously, I thought we would have to amputate your leg!"

"Yeah, but you didn't."

Jesus's eyes snapped open, and  Daryl watched him, amused.

"You are completely missing the point. You don't know how pissed I am right now."

"Probably not. But I can imagine."

Jesus glared.

"Let me see your leg." He demanded.

"Why? What are you going to do once you see it anyway? You can't really help me..."

"I went to school to be a doctor. " He replied, ignoring the way Daryl's eyes widened in surprise. "I need to see how bad it is. Just... let me see your leg."

"But you weren't actually a doctor? You just 'went to school'?"

Jesus winced.

"We're not talking about that right now. Show me your leg."

Daryl frowned, but took the blankets off anyway, revealing his leg.

Jesus sucked in a deep breath. It looked bad.

"We don't have the equipment to heal that." He said, eyebrows furrowed.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"I'll be fine."

"You could die from an injury like that. I'm leaving to look for supplies. I think I saw a hospital nearby-"

"You aren't going anywhere."

"Fortunately, you don't get to tell me what I can and can't do."

"Paul, you can't go to a hospital. It will be overrun with walkers, all the supplies are probably gone anyway."

Jesus glared.

"I'm going."

"If you do this, I'm never talking to you again."

Jesus froze. Daryl stared at him, blue eyes blazing.

"Then you won't talk to me again. I'm not going to sit here and wait for you to die."

Daryl grabbed Jesus's hand.

"And I can't just sit here waiting for _you_ to die! I'm not letting you do this."

The two men stared at each other, glaring.

A few minutes ticked by.

Jesus looked down, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"Fuck. Why is it so hard? Is it supposed to be this hard?"

Daryl dropped his hand, letting out a deep breath. He didn't respond. He couldn't...

"I want to go home..." Jesus murmured.

"But this is home..." Daryl replied, confused.

Jesus couldn't explain that no, this wasn't home. Home was back where he lived with Daryl. Back where things where normal.

Jesus stood up abruptly, worried that he would cry if he thought about it for too long.

"I'm going to talk to Denise, and then I'm leaving. I'm sorry, Daryl."

Daryl began to protest, but Paul was already walking away.

****  
Carol sat at the guard tower with Rosita. They watched Jesus approach the front gates.

"Where you going?" Carol called.

"Daryl's hurt. We found him in the woods, unconscious. His leg was stuck in an animal trap. I'm worried about it getting infected.  I'm going to go look for supplies."

"Oh. Well In that case, I'm going with you."

Jesus blinked up at Carol stupidly.

"You.... what?"

Carol rolled her eyes..

"I'm going with you. You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?"

"Well, I..."

"Rosita." Carol addressed, cutting him off. "Can you manage alone?"

Rosita nodded.

"Good. Tell Rick where we went when he wakes up."

"Sure. I don't think he'll be too happy though..."

"I don't care."

Rosita shrugged.

"It's your funeral."

****

"Did you see that?" Carol asked, ducking behind a wall.

Jesus and Carol had driven to the nearest city, a few hours away from Alexandria. They were now looking for a hospital.

"See what?" Jesus whispered.

Carol frowned.

"There was a car. A black one. Someone was driving it. I... I think they saw us."

Jesus peaked around the wall cautiously. There was no one in sight.

"I think it's okay now. I don't see anyone."

Carol looked concerned, but they kept moving anyway. They had deserted their car a few minutes away from town, so they wouldn't attract walkers.

Now was the hard part.

Getting to the hospital, finding what they needed, and getting out.

A large group of walkers stood between them and the other side of town. They needed to get past them, as that was where the hospital was. Jesus expected nothing different. Still, it was a problem.

"What's the plan?" Carol asked, eyeing the walkers nervously.

"Maybe we should go around them. Quietly and quickly, around the edges of the town." Jesus suggested.

"I can't think of any other way to do it."

"Me either."

"Well, then that's the plan."

They ran from building to building, occasionally stopping to catch their breath, or to kill a stray walker.

They were now in the middle of an empty street. Both of them relaxed a little. They were halfway around the group of walkers.

"Do you think-" Carol started.

She was interrupted by a terrible screeching.

Too late, Jesus recognized the sound of tires squealing against pavement. He rolled out of the way as a black car slammed into Carol.

He thought he might have screamed, but he wasn't sure. All he could hear was the sound of glass shattering.

A man in a black suit stepped out of the car. He looked suspiciously like a member of The Men in Black, Paul thought. But really, now wasn't really the time to be thinking about that.

The man didn't look surprised, or worried at all. He didn't even acknowledge Paul.

He simply pulled out a stretcher, lifted Carol onto it, and drove away.

"Carol!" Paul screamed.

He attempted to run after the car, but it was too fast, and walkers were beginning to swarm him.

He watched in despair as the walkers formed a circle around him, drawing closer with each second.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." He muttered.

This was it. He glanced around him, looking for an escape option.

Even if he managed to get out of this swarm of walkers, he wouldn't be able to outrun them forever.

"I'm sorry, Carol." He whispered, closing his eyes.

He had let so many people down. Carol was unconscious, taken by some random man. Daryl was back at Alexandria, seriously injured. Rick was probably furious that he had left...

Eyes closed, he waited for his fate.

"Hey! Over here!" A voice called.

Paul's eyes snapped open.

Through the crowd of walkers, he could vaguely make out the outline of a man....

He pulled out his knife, and began shoving through the crowd. He had no clue if he would make it out. He would probably get bitten. But he had to try.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the man fought his way towards Paul.

He grabbed Paul's hand, pulling him through the rest of the crowd. They were sprinting towards an open door...

The man slammed it shut, walkers pressing against it.

"Come on!" He yelled. "The door won't hold forever!"

Jesus could barley process what was happening, everything was happening so fast.

The man led him up a few flights of stairs. They arrived at a bridge that connected two buildings together.

When the man saw the bridge, he breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing on the floor.

Jesus sat next to him, breathing heavily.

"You saved me." He stated, still in shock.

"No, really?" He replied, rolling his eyes.

"I mean... thank you. What's your name?"

"Noah."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jesus. "

Noah scoffed.

"Like Jesus Christ?"

"The one and only." Jesus said with a small smile.

Noah stood up slowly, his breathing now normal.

"We should get out of here. I saw your friend get hit. The people that took her... they're bad. Really bad."

"Wait! I can't just leave her with them!"

Noah sighed.

"It's too late. I barely got out alive."

"Please. Tell me everything you know. You don't have to help me.... just, please."

Noah gave him a long look.

"Fine, Fine. The people that took your friend claim that they're good. They purposely hurt people, and then they "save their lives" at the hospital over this bridge. Once they save you, they claim that you're forever in their debt. They make you stay there forever. I barely escaped. Believe me, you don't want to go there."

Jesus tapped his fingers against his chin, thinking.

"They have drugs there?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because my boyfri- I mean, my friend, he's really hurt. I need to find some antibiotics and pain killers for him."

Noah snorted.

"It's impossible. They have top notch security. Even if you could get in and out, with your friend, how would you know what drugs to get?"

"I went to med school."

Noah started pacing. Jesus noted that he had a bad limp.

"If you help me, you could come back to my community. We have a town inside the walls. Lots of supplies. You'd be a useful addition."

"No."

"You'll die alone. Believe me. People that are alone don't make it very far. If the walkers don't kill you, then the people will. The people that are survivors in this world...they're dangerous. They won't hesitate to kill you. How long were you in that hospital anyway?" 

"Since the outbreak started. I was a nurse."

"My point exactly. You don't know what it's like out there. Help me, and I'll help you."

There was a beat of silence.

"I'll think about it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been super busy with school, and I hit a bit of a wall in my writing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, thank you for the comments and Kudos. They are much appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> XOXO

  
Daryl lay on his hospital bed, glaring at the IV in his arm.

"Glaring at it won't help, Daryl." Denise stated calmly.

"When can I leave?" Daryl asked, ignoring her statement.

She frowned.

"Not for a few days, at least. After that, you'll have to take it easy. You aren't thinking about going after Jesus, are you?"

Daryl scowled.

"No. He can die out there for all I care."

"Right. That's why you were calling for him in your sleep then?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

Daryl looked away, still scowling.

"I'll be back to check on you in an hour. I have to go talk to Rick." Denise said, leaving the room.

Daryl sat in silence for a moment, watching the fluids drip from his IV.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't just sit here doing nothing.

Cautiously, he moved his injured leg. The pain was dull now, he should be fine.

Daryl pulled the IV out of his arm, cringing slightly as blood dripped from it.

He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, clenching his jaw. The pain wasn't that bad. He could do this.

Daryl stood up, balancing all the weight on his uninjured leg. He smirked. He'd show Denise. A few days? Ha. Look at him, he was doing fine.

Feeling confident, he shifted half his weight onto his injured leg. He hissed in pain as his leg gave out, and he fell face first into the floor.

Shit.

Okay. That was fine. He could just crawl out of here, and back to his house.

He slowly began to drag himself towards the door, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. He was _not_ going to spend another day in the hospital.

The front door opened, and Daryl froze.

"Please don't come in here..." Daryl silently begged.

Footsteps crept towards him.... then there was silence.

"Daryl? What the hell are you doing?"

Daryl let out a groan, looking up to meet Ricks gaze.

"I thought you were meeting with Denise." Daryl spat.

Rick shook his head.

"Honestly, Daryl. We leave you alone for 5 minutes..."

He knelt down next to Daryl.

"Come on. I'll help you get back into bed."

"I ain't stayin here any longer." Daryl growled.

Rick took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Daryl. You need to promise me you won't try to leave again."

Daryl glared at him in response.

"Fine. You're making me do something I don't want to do, Daryl."

"What-" Daryl started, but Rick had scooped him off the ground, and was carrying him back to bed.

"Hey!" He protested.

Rick ignored him, plopping him on the bed and walking away.

Daryl rolled his eyes. Whatever. He'd just wait for Rick to leave before he tried to leave again.

But then Rick came back, holding a big box.

Daryl eyed him nervously.

Rick opened the box, revealing a set of rails.

Daryl stared at him in disbelief.

"Rick? Are you..... no. I'm not a child!" He protested.

Rick ignored him, attaching the rails to the sides of his bed.

"You'll be treated like an adult when you start acting like one." Rick finally said, leaving the room.

Daryl swore and kicked the rails, but they did not budge.

"It looks like I'll be stuck here for a few more days" he thought bitterly.

*******

"Fine. I'll help you."

Jesus's eyes went wide with surprise.

"Really? Thank you!"

Noah shrugged.

"I thought about what you said. You're right. With my limp, I probably wouldn't make it very long out there. Not alone."

Jesus patted his back.

"You're a good man, Noah. Now, do you have a plan?"

"Maybe. A bunch of police officers run the hospital, like I told you. Their leader is a lady named Dawn. She's... very attached to some of the other police officers there. So I was thinking... what if we managed to kidnap two of the police officers while they're patrolling? We could use them as a trade for your friend.... or something. I don't know."

Jesus chewed his lip, thinking.

"Carol." He corrected, absentmindedly.

"What?"

"Her name is Carol."

"Oh."

Another minute went by as Jesus thought.

"I like your idea. But I need medicine too, remember? Somehow, I don't think Dawn would be willing to trade for Medicine."

Noah frowned.

"How badly do you need these meds?"

"Badly."

"Shit. Okay. Let me think.... wait. What if you could sneak in grab the meds, get out? Then we do the trade plan?"

"Why wouldn't I just grab Carol while I'm there?"

"They'd catch you."

"Can you draw me a map, of where the supplies are? "

"Yeah. Only problem, they're locked in Dawns office."

"I can pick locks, that's not a problem."

Noah raised an eyebrow.

"You're a doctor who can pick locks?"

"I'm not a doctor."

"But you said-"

"Let's not get into that right now."

"Righttt. I'll draw you a map."

******

Jesus snuck through the dimly lit hallways of Grady Memorial Hospital. The fluorescent lights flickered above him, and he squinted.

There were no guards by Dawns office, just as Noah had promised.

Apparently, they thought keeping valuable meds locked up would be enough.

They thought wrong.

Jesus had the lock picked in minutes, and he slipped into the dark office.

He rummaged through a few filing cabinets before finding the medicine he needed.

Dilated, a form of Morphine, for pain reduction. It was a fairly large dosage, but they could always split the pill in half if they needed.

His eyes wandered over the pill bottles.

Zofran, for nausea. It wouldn't hurt to grab. Powerful pain killers could have the undesired effect of nausea.

He tossed a few pill bottles aside, before coming across Amoxicillin.

The pill form tasted god awful, but they were antibiotics none the less.

He pocketed the pill bottles, and locked the door behind him.

He could help Daryl now. Daryl would be okay.

Jesus felt a flash of guilt. He had nearly forgotten about Carol.

Now that he was thinking about it.... maybe he should go back to Alexandria with Noah right away. He could drop off the medicine, make sure Daryl was okay, grab some reinforcements.

No. He shouldn't. Carol could be hurt, or in trouble. He needed to get her out of this mess. It was his fault she was in it in the first place.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the bridge. Shockingly, everything had gone according to plan.

Noah looked relieved to see him.

"It went okay?" He whispered.

Jesus nodded.

"Good. Now on to the next part of the plan." 

*****

Noah and Jesus crept around the side of a building, observing the two police officers before them.

"Ugh. They even still wear their uniforms." Jesus muttered.

Noah shushed him as the two police officers got closer.

"Really, Lamson. You have the intelligence of a pea."

"Is that right Licari? What does that make you? After all, didn't you get caught in your own fucking trap the other day?"

Lamson scowled, and Noah but his tongue to keep from laughing.

"I can't believe you lost that kid!" Lamson defended.

"I'll find him. What are you going to do though? I'll find the kid, but you can't find your dignity."

Licari smirked as Lamson sputtered angrily.

"Are you ready?" Jesus whispered, rolling his eyes at the police officers.

"I still can't believe you're using me as bait...." Noah grumbled.

Jesus shrugged.

"You _volunteered_ as bait." He corrected.

"Whatever. Let's get this over with...."

Noah stepped out from behind the wall.

"Hey! Are you looking for me?"

Lamson and Licari immediately straightened.

"Don't just stand there!" Licari yelled at Lamson. "GET HIM!"

The two officers ran at Noah, and Jesus fired his gun.

The bullet hit Lamson in the leg, and he fell over screaming.

Licari's eyes went wide as Jesus tackled him and handcuffed him with Lamson's handcuffs.

Noah watched, eyes wild.

"Get in the car." Jesus commanded. "We're going to pay a visit to Dawn."

******

"THEY DID _WHAT_?" Dawn screeched.

The officer in front of her looked nervous.

"Yes... yes Ma'am. There's a man, Paul Rovia. He's waiting to negotiate with you..."

"Rose?" Dawn asked calmly.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Do we... _negotiate_ with thieves?"

"N-no Ma'am."

"Tell him to give me back my men and Ge _t_. _Out_."

"I tried Ma'am, but... he refused. He wishes to speak to you."

****

Dawn burst through the front doors, pushing Carol in a wheelchair.

"You want to negotiate?" She screamed. "Here's the deal! You give me back my men, or your friend dies."

Paul calmly pointed his gun at Licari's head.

"No deal." He said, examining his fingertips.

Dawn smiled sweetly, her demeanor changing. 

"You mustn't play with murder, my dear. It isn't civil."

"That's rich, coming from you."

The smile vanished.

"Here's the deal. I'll give you your friend, and the meds you stole. Yes, I know." She said, noting Jesus's look of surprise. "In return, you give me my two men..... and Noah."

Noah looked at Jesus, horror written on his face.

Jesus didn't even hesitate.

"No." He stated firmly. "Two for two."

Dawn gave him a wicked smile.

"You shot one of my men..."

"Yes." Jesus didn't bother denying it.

"You know what we can do to get even?" Dawn asked, her smile growing.

"What?"

"This." Dawn replied, pulling out her gun and shooting Jesus in the leg.

Carol and Noah screamed, and Jesus fell to his knees.

Dawn walked up to him.

" _Now_ you have a deal. Two for two."

She took her men, and left Noah, Carol and Jesus alone.

Noah stared at him in shock.

"You didn't give me up." He said, still not believing what had happened.

"No. You're apart of the team now..." Jesus replied, gritting his teeth in pain.

"We have to get back to Alexandria.." Carol muttered.

"Carol..." Jesus began quietly. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a small smile.

"Broken legs and a fractured rib. I'll live."

Noah helped Jesus stand up.

"I can't believe she let you get away so easily..." Noah muttered.

"She shot me." Jesus replied, annoyed.

"Yes, that was rather petty, wasn't it?"

Noah gave Jesus a small smirk.

"How are we going to get across town?" Carol interrupted.

Jesus swore.

That was a great fucking question.

Noah was limping, he had just been shot, and Carol was broken in more than a few places.

Noah eyed Jesus.

"I can help you get across town. You can lean on me until we get to the car. Carol. Do you think you could use your arms to push yourself?"

Carol lowered her arms, grimacing.

"I'll manage."

"Good."

With that, the three of them were off. Yes, they moved slowly. Yes, everything hurt. A lot. But they were alive.

*****

Noah helped Jesus into the passenger seat before lifting Carol into the back seat. He folded up her wheelchair and put it in the trunk, before climbing into the drivers seat.

"So, um, I don't know how to drive." Noah admitted.

Jesus stared at him a minute, before groaning.

"Oh my god. You're serious."

"Sadly."

"How old are you? Mid Twenties? How can you not drive?"

Noah rolled his eyes.

"I lived in the city. I always walked to work. Besides, I never thought driving would be a good idea, with my leg and all."

Jesus took a deep breath.

"Okay. It's fine. I'll teach you. Welcome to driving 101."

******

They arrived at Alexandria around 2 am. Rick, who was on guard duty, faced conflicting emotions upon seeing them.

He was angry at Carol and Jesus for leaving without permission, but he was also relieved to see they were alive. Also, he was confused. Who was this kid they brought back with them?

Jesus stumbled out of the car.

"Rick" he said, sounding exhausted. "We need... we need medical attention. Right away. "

Rick's eyes went wide as he took in Jesus's bleeding leg.

"I'll have Denise look at you right away." Rick promised, already starting to head towards the hospital.

"Wait! Not just me. Carol was... hit by a car."

Rick's face fell.

"Oh my god."

"She's okay! It's okay! Don't worry!" Jesus assured.

Rick turned and ran to get Denise, still looking horrified.

Noah shifted uncomfortably, feeling odd in the new environment.

Jesus turned to him with and smiled.

"Welcome to Alexandria."

 

 

 

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize in advance for this chapter, for all the poorly written angst. Hang in there, it will get better! 
> 
> On another note, Jesus has two weeks left. 
> 
> Thanks for over 100 Kudos, you guys are great!

  
Jesus limped into Daryl's hospital room. Well, hospital room may have been an understatement. Rick preferred to call it the infirmary, considering it was just a house.

Jesus stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitating.

He had given Denise the medical supplies, and had refused to be looked at until the others were taken care of.  
He knew Daryl would be beyond pissed at him, but he had to try to talk to him anyway.

Moving silently, he sat next to Daryl's bed, and began absentmindedly stroking Daryl's hair.

Daryl stirred under his touch, and Jesus froze.

"Paul.." Daryl murmured.

Jesus wondered if he was awake for a moment.

"Help, Paul..."

Daryl was whimpering softly, and Jesus sucked in a deep breath.

It shouldn't hurt so much. But it still hurt to hear Daryl say his name. It still hurt to know that Daryl wasn't his.

Jesus placed a hand on Daryl's arm and shook him gently.

"Daryl, it's okay. I'm here..."

Daryl blinked blearily at him.

"You're not real." He muttered.

"I'm real. I promise."

Daryl rubbed his eyes and sat up.

"Paul?"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence. Jesus didn't move his hand from Daryl's arm.

"Why did you leave." Daryl finally asked, voice flat.

"You know why. I left for you."

"I told you not to."

"I know."

Daryl fell silent again, and Jesus thought he might have fallen back asleep. Wishful thinking.

"I told you I wouldn't talk to you again, if you left."

"You did. And I left anyway."

"I thought... I thought you were dead, Paul. I thought you were dead because of me. Do you know how hard that was?"

"I know. And I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't fix this."

Jesus knew it shouldn't hurt. Hearing those words. He expected this.

"I...it was never my intention to hurt you." He whispered.

Daryl's eyes bore into his.

"I know. "

The unspoken words, "But you did." hung between them.

Jesus stood up.

"I should go. I'll... talk to you later."

He stood, momentarily forgetting about his injury.

Jesus's leg gave out, and he collapsed against the chair next to Daryl's bed, hissing in pain.  
  
Daryl grabbed his arm, looking alarmed and angry at the same time.

" _What_. _Happened_." He hissed.

Jesus looked up, eyes meeting Daryl's.

His eyes were watering from pain, his teeth clenched tightly together.

"Nothing." He managed to get out, hands shaking, breaths coming out short and ragged.

"It's clearly not-" Daryl began, but Denise interrupted.

"Honestly Paul! Carol and Noah were _fine_ and you're sitting over here, bleeding out from a gunshot wound!"

Daryl's eyes turned murderous.

"You got _shot_? _And you didn't tell me?_ What the fuck, Paul? WHAT THE _FUCK_? I TOLD YOU! _I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO GO"_

"Daryl-" Paul started.

"No. Who was it? Who shot you, Paul? I swear to god, they better be dead. They'll _wish_ they were dead when I find them."

"Daryl"

"You are such an idiot! I can't believe you got shot for me! And why the hell is Carol here? Who hurt her?"

"Daryl"

"I CANT STAND THIS, PAUL! IM SO SICK OF THIS BULLSHIT."

"Daryl."

"DONT "DARYL" ME, YOU ASSHOLE. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING _WORRIED_ IVE BEEN?"

" _Daryl_ "

" _What_!"

 _"I'm okay_ "

Daryl looked away, suddenly overcome with emotion. It was 3 am, he was tired, in pain, heavily drugged, and fuck, he had no self control left.

 _"Look at me_ " Paul demanded.

Denise took this moment to awkwardly shuffle out of the room. Paul had waited a few hours for medical attention. What was a few more minutes?

Daryl let out a strangled sound, looking at Paul.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry you blame yourself for all of this. I'm sorry that I wasn't here when you needed me. "

Daryl looked distraught, and wouldn't meet Paul's eyes.

"But I had to go. You know that I did. Daryl, please. I'm asking you to trust me. Trust me not to get myself killed. I'm sorry that I left. I really am. I know that I can't just fix everything with a few words. But Daryl? If it's any consolation, I was worried sick about you.

I know you might never speak to me again after tonight. And I get it. But please, at least put yourself in my shoes and think about the situation."

With that, he left, and Daryl wondered if he'd ever talk to him again. 

****

Denise sat next to Jesus, wrapping his leg in gauze. Luckily, the bullet had only grazed his leg, and it had also went clean through. There was no shards of bullet that needed to be removed.

"So, um." Denise began awkwardly. "That was... quite the argument."

Jesus let out a sigh.

"Yeah."

A beat of silence.

"Well, you'll be happy to know Daryl's doing a lot better. He's able to walk now, but it still hurts. Though, I think the pain meds you brought back will help him immensely."

Jesus gave her a tired smile.

Denise stood up, patting his shoulder.

"You look good. You'll feel better soon. You're lucky it was only a minor injury."

Jesus nodded again.

"And don't worry. Daryl will come around." She assured, leaving the room.

Jesus closed his eyes. The pain meds Denise gave him where starting to kick in. He felt.... fuzzy, and... somewhat content.

Twenty minutes later, he dozed off, his last worries gradually melted away.

*****

It was two days later.

Daryl and Jesus were both out of the infirmary, and things were... tense.

Living next to each other certainly didn't help.

The two men argued constantly, about anything and everything.

It was dusk, and Daryl and Jesus bumped into each other on their way to Rick's house.

"Watch where you're going." Daryl spat, as Jesus ran into him.

Jesus scowled.

Rick sat on his front porch, watching the interaction.

"You know, for someone who said they'd never talk to me again, you're doing an awful lot of talking."

Daryl growled, and lifted a fist.

Jesus's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Do it. _HIT ME."_

Rick decided to intervene before things got out of hand.

He stalked over to the two men.

"Listen." He said, as the Daryl and Jesus glared at each other. "This is getting out of hand. _Enough already._ You are grown men, so until you start acting like it, you need to leave Alexandria. Both of you. And don't come back until you get over whatever the hell it is you guys are fighting about."

Daryl's jaw dropped In disbelief, and Jesus sputtered.

"But-" he started.

Rick held up a hand, eyes blazing.

" _Go_."

****

Daryl and Jesus sat in a car, bags packed. Jesus was driving, Daryl sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

Neither of them knew where they were going. It didn't matter.

It was pitch black now, after driving for two and a half hours.  
  
"Pull over here." Daryl muttered.

"Fine."

Those were the first words they had spoken to each other the entire drive.

Jesus pulled over, and turned off the car. The two men sat in silence, neither of them moving.

"Daryl-" Jesus began.

"No. Don't."

Jesus sighed.

"Daryl _please_. This is stupid. Can we talk?"

Daryl said nothing, and Jesus closed his eyes for a moment.

After a moment of hesitation, he put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl tensed.

"Daryl, listen."

"Don't. Touch. Me." Daryl spat, shifting away.

Jesus's face fell.

"What?" He whispered.

"Don't touch me. You don't have that right anymore. You lost the right to do that when you left."

Jesus sucked in a deep breath, stung.

"I know. I know I lost that right. But I can't just stop caring about you, Daryl. I can't stand the arguing. The silence. Please, talk to me."

"I told you I'm not talking to you. We're done talking. "

"Daryl..."

"No. You know what, Paul? Sometimes I wish you had just died out there."

Daryl ignored the way Jesus's eyes filled with hurt. The way everything seemed to drain out of him. They way his face crumpled.

Daryl got out of the car. Jesus watched him walk into the woods, feeling numb.

Jesus closed his eyes, and put his head on the steering wheel. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he didn't let them.

He sat like that for awhile, not moving.

Ten minutes later, he heard the car door open. He didn't look up.

Daryl slid into the car silently.

"I didn't mean that." He whispered.

Jesus said nothing.

"Paul?"

Silence.

"I didn't mean it." He said again, more desperately this time.

Paul looked up slowly, face expressionless, eyes dead.

"Don't. You meant what you said. Its fine, Daryl. I get it."

Daryl shook his head.

"I didn't mean it. Not a single fucking word, Paul. Yeah, I was angry when you left. Because I... I care, okay? I was worried. You were out there, risking your life for me, and I was.... confused. I didn't understand why anyone would do that for me. "

Paul stared at him, silent.

Daryl slammed a hand against the dashboard, frustrated.

" _Damnit_. I don't want you dead. I would _never_ want you dead."

Paul shook his head.

"You-"

Daryl didn't care what Paul was about to say.

He opened the car door, got out, and slammed it shut again. Paul thought he was about to leave again, when he stormed over to the other other side of the car, yanked Paul's door open, and pulled Paul out.

Jesus's eyes went wide, sure that Daryl was about to beat the crap out of him.

Instead, Daryl pulled him into a hug. He hugged him so tightly, Jesus could barely breathe.

"I don't want you dead." Daryl whispered.

Jesus closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Daryl.

"I know."

****

Daryl dreamed of Death.

_"Honestly, what a mess. You two are a mess."_

_Daryl glared across the tables at Death._

" _And I know people can have some rough patches in relationships, but Jesus. Ya'll take that to a new extreme."_

_Daryl continued to glare, saying nothing._

_"It's so frustrating to watch you two. You both obviously care about each other. Yet you both just go, 'Hey, let's swallow our feelings. Even if it makes us unhappy forever, sound good?' And more annoyingly, you don't even know what you're feeling!"_

_"I know what I'm feeling." Daryl muttered_.

 _Death rolled his eyes_.

_"And what might that be?"_

_"He's my friend, I'm worried about him."_

_Death resisted the urge to face palm._

_"God lord, kill me now. You really are clueless."_

_"About what?"_

_"Well what's the fun in telling you, hm? No, you need to figure this one out on your own."_

" _Sure_. "

_There was a moment of silence, and Daryl became slightly uncomfortable._

_"Where's Life?" Daryl asked, breaking the silence._

_Death sighed._

_"He and I had a... misunderstanding. Much like you and Jesus had."_

_"What was it about?"_

_"He sold his soul to the devil. For me. Really, out of all the foolish things you could do. Selling your soul to the devil! For me! Honestly, the mere thought drives me insane. So foolish."_

_"He cares about you."_

" _And_?"

_"And, that's why he did it."_

_"I'm furious with him."_

_"Yes. But really, you can't be mad at him forever. He did it for you, after all."_

_"You should take your own advice, Daryl."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Paul didn't make a deal with the devil, but he did make a deal with me. You hold such a grudge, Daryl. Stop pushing him away. Talk to him."_

" _I'm trying_."

 _"Try harder_."

And with that, the dream faded away. 

 

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> So I've been getting a lot of comments lately that have been asking me to continue this fic. 
> 
> I want to let you know that I will eventually finish it, though it may take awhile! 
> 
> I would never abandon this fic though, so keep that in mind. 
> 
> In the next few weeks I'll be having surgery, so don't worry if I drop off the face of the earth for a few weeks! I'll try to update as soon as possible, so don't lose hope! 
> 
> On another note, this is a shorter chapter, but it's also extremely light hearted. Hope you get a laugh out of this one! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> XOXO

  
Jesus woke up, his leg aching.

The sun was just now peaking out from below the horizon, and the snow around him appeared almost orange.

He wouldn't deny that it was beautiful.

Often times people forgot that there was still beauty in the world, even though it was falling apart.

Daryl snored on next to him, and Jesus smiled a little.

Though things between them where still a bit tense and awkward, they were definitely doing better than before, and that was all that mattered.

Despite his best efforts, Jesus wasn't able to ignore the painful throbbing in his leg.

He tried to go back to sleep, hoping he could sleep away some of the pain, but that clearly wasn't going to happen.

Denise had given him a few extra pain pills before he and Daryl had left Alexandra for this very reason, but Jesus hated taking the opioids. They made him groggy, too happy, and far too unaware.

It was dangerous to take them while on a run. Being unaware could kill you, after all.

He laid on the cold ground for a moment longer, before his resolve began to crumble.

Really, what could one pain pill do? Just one? He really, really needed it.

Jesus dug around his backpack for a moment, before pulling out a familiar bright, orange bottle.

He spilled out a pill into his hand, and tossed it into his mouth.

The pills were so tiny, he didn't even need water to wash them down. It was amazing, what such a small pill could do.

Daryl began to stir next to him, so he tossed the bottle back into his backpack, not wanting Daryl to worry about him.

"Good morning!" Paul greeted warmly.

Daryl sat up, hair sticking up, dark circles under his eyes, a fierce scowl on his face.

"Yes. What a perfectly wonderful morning." He began sarcastically. "I just slept on the freezing cold ground, and now I'm waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, next to chatty Kathy nonetheless, so what could possibly make this day better?"

He gave Jesus a fake, tense smile before rolling his eyes.

Alright then.

"Umm...yeah. So _anyway_ , I was thinking we could stop at a gas station or something on the way back to Alexandria, so we don't come back empty handed. Sound good?"

"Yes. That sounds _fantastic_."

Jesus wasn't sure exactly what his problem was this morning, but he decided not to ask.

The two men piled into the car, and set off towards home.

Daryl was scowling out the window while Jesus drove, and Jesus eventually couldn't take it anymore.

"What's wrong?" He asked, though he really wanted to say,

"What's your problem?"

Daryl turned to face him, sneering.

"Absolutely nothing." He replied, in an overly sarcastic tone.

It was all very confusing.

"Listen, is this about last night? Because I really thought we were making some progress-"

"It ain't about last night. It ain't about you. So stop worrying about it."

Even with Daryl's assurance, Jesus continued to worry, but not for too long.

After about 20 minutes of driving, the pain pill was beginning to kick in, and Jesus found himself unable to think about anything of importance.

"What's that elephant doing in the middle of the road?" Jesus asked, dreamily.

Daryl looked up, half expecting an elephant to actually be in the middle of the road.

"What?" He asked, after seeing there was clearly no elephant.

Jesus's glazed eyes widened.

"Holy hell, we just drove through it!!" He exclaimed.

Daryl stared at him in disbelief.

"Pull over."

"Nahhh..."

"Paul. Pull over. You're gonna get us killed."

Jesus looked over at Daryl, annoyance written across his face.

"Sir. Let me do my job."

He stepped on the gas pedal, and the car accelerated to 80 MPH.

Daryl paled a little, and gripped the side of his seat.

"Are you drunk?? What's even happening?"

Paul shrugged, looking completely unconcerned, and continued driving on.

"Paul, please, pull over." Daryl begged.

His eyes went wide as he saw a few walkers walking aimlessly about in the middle of the road, a few feet in front of them.

"Paul! You're going to hit that walker! Slow-"

There was a loud thunk as one of the walkers hit their front windshield, and flew over the car.

"Down..." Daryl finished numbly.

"Hm? What?" Jesus asked, as he ran over another walker, a faraway look in his eyes.

Blood spattered across the front windshield, and Daryl gripped the dashboard, eyes wide, terrified that they were both going to die.

"You just ran over a walker!"

Paul turned to look at him, face expressionless, eyes blank.

"I what?"

" _Pull_. _Over_."

"Wait. I feel something."

"You what?"

"Hang on, Chewy! I'm going into hyper-speed!"

"Wait, what?"

Jesus slammed his foot on the gas pedal, and the car accelerated to 95 MPH.

Daryl screamed.

"PAUL! I SWEAR TO GOD! PULL OVER. RIGHT. NOW."

Jesus slammed on the break, and Daryl flew into the dashboard, groaning.

"Well for fucks sake, sir. You don't need to yell about it." Jesus muttered.

Daryl got out of the car, hands shaking slightly.

Paul collapsed into the passengers seat humming, and Daryl let out a sigh of relief.

****

Daryl and Paul pulled into a gas station 10 minutes later.

"Okay, Paul. We're going to stop here quick. Stay by me. Don't go by the walkers, okay?"

Jesus nodded.

When Daryl kicked open the gas station door, Jesus made a beeline to the first walker he saw.

"Something smells like it died in here. Oh wait, it's just you. ROASTED!!" Jesus yelled.

Daryl's heart skipped a beat as the walker slammed into Paul, knocking him over.

"Fuck you too, sir." Jesus muttered, unconcerned that the walker was centimeters away from face.

Daryl ran over, stabbed the walker, and pulled Paul to his feet.

"Paul, _please_. I'm begging you, stay by me."

"Begging, huh? That's kinda hot..."

" _Paul_ "

"Alright, alright."

Daryl killed the remaining two walkers in the gas station, and the two men began to look for supplies.

To Jesus's utter joy, he found a pack of gummy worms.

He shoved them into his trench coat pocket, looking nervously at Daryl.

"If you take these, you die." Jesus stated seriously.

Daryl sighed.

"I don't doubt that, Paul."

After a few minutes of walking around the gas station, Daryl decided there was nothing worth taking.

Honestly, he was just ready to go home.

He glanced over at Jesus, who was spinning in circles, humming.

"Come on, Paul. Let's go home."

*****

Paul sat in the passenger seat, calmly eating his pack of gummy worms.

He took out one worm out at a time, placed it between his lips, and slurped it up like spaghetti.

Every 30 seconds, Daryl would hear a small _Slurp_ , followed by a quiet chuckle.

"For fucks sake, Paul! Why can't you do anything _normal_?"

Paul turned to him, a look of hurt on his face.

"But I don't want to be normal!"

Daryl let out a frustrated sigh, and slammed on the brakes, trying to avoid hitting a corpse in the middle of the road.

Jesus slammed into the dashboard, spilling his gummy worms everywhere.

"My worms!!" He yelled, horrified.

Daryl glared at him.

"Why aren't you wearing your seatbelt?!"

"Because I trust you. I love you."

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"It's still stupid not to wear a seatbelt."

"Do you love me?"

"What?"

"Come on.... You love me."

"I most certainly do not."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

***

An hour later, Daryl pulled up to the gates of Alexandria, Paul sound asleep.

He got out of the car, unbuckled Paul, and carried him over to Denise's house.

Paul didn't even stir.

Daryl knocked on Denise's door, feeling an odd feeling of Dejavú as he waited.

Denise opened the door, raised an eyebrow at Daryl, then gestured for him to come inside.

Daryl laid Paul down on the couch and sighed.

"What did you do to him?" Denise asked.

"Me?" Daryl sputtered. "We were just driving down the road when he went crazy, going on about elephants and hyper-speed and shit!"

Denise gave him a long look.

"Hyper-speed and shit..." she repeated slowly.

"Yes."

"Mhm. And how many pain pills has he taken in the past 24 hours?"

"Pain pills?"

"Yeah."

"He drove on pain pills? Oh my god. Wasn't this man supposed to be a doctor or something?"

"Um, yes. So I don't think he overdosed, just had a bit of a... hallucination. He should be back to normal when he wakes up."

"Thank god."

"Yeah. Go get some rest. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thanks, Denise." Daryl replied, exhausted.

Denise was taken aback by his thanks, and she gave him a baffled smile.

"You're welcome, Daryl."

 

 

 

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> Sorry for the wait! My surgery hasn't been scheduled yet, so I may be able to finish this fic before my operation. Fingers crossed! 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments, I love them! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, thanks for reading! 
> 
> XOXO

  
Jesus woke up, his head pounding. He let out a groan, and Denise frowned at him.

"That wasn't very smart, you know. Driving and all." She stated.

Jesus ran a hand through his messy, tangled hair.

"I honestly forgot. Last time I took pain medication it just made me tired. I didn't think all that would happen, I swear."

Denise's frown deepened.

"You could have killed yourself. Or Daryl."

Jesus winced. Oh god, Daryl was going to kill him.

"Is he okay?" Jesus asked, mildly panicked.

Denise's gaze softened a bit.

"Yes, he's fine. He came in to check on you a few minutes ago, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know he doesn't show it, but he was worried about you."

Jesus smiled a little.

"So can I go home?"

"As long as you promise to stay out of trouble..." Denise replied, somewhat wearily.

"Thanks, Denise."

She smiled a little.

"You're welcome."

*****

Jesus sat in his living room, skimming through a book.

Ironically, it was a thriller, about the zombie apocalypse.  
The author had gotten a few details right, but the story lacked villains. 

In the book, it portrayed the the protagonist only having to deal with zombies, nothing else.

Jesus shook his head.

If only walkers were their biggest problem. You get used to dealing with the walkers. After awhile it wasn't so bad. But the villains? They were much worse. 

Jesus put down his book.

He wasn't really in the mood to read.

Or maybe the book just hit a little too close to home.

He took a long sip of tea, closing his eyes as warmth spread across his chest.

It was a perfect day for tea and a book. The snow fell outside peacefully, and the fire in the fireplace crackled softly. 

It wasn't often that he had time to relax. Especially alone.

Not that he really minded not having much time to himself. He was fairly extroverted, after all. Extrovert or not, he could still appreciate some time alone.

He watched the fire for awhile, simply listening to cracks and pops, and watching the patterns of light it made across the wall.

Jesus was taking another slow sip of tea, when there was a knock at the door.

He sighed, and stood up.

Of course it had been too good to be true.

He opened the door, and Rick stood in front of him, slightly out of breath.

"Sorry to bother you." Rick panted. "But we need you to come to the front gates. We have....a visitor."

Jesus looked at him, alarmed.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone's fine. The guy wasn't armed. But he needs to talk to us. All of us."

Jesus watched curiously as Rick turned and ran back towards the front gates. He glanced over, and saw Daryl standing in his front yard, watching him intently.

When Daryl made eye contact with him, he shook his head, then walked away.

Jesus shrugged, and shut the front door. He ran to put on his boots and trench coat, before running out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

He jogged to catch up to Daryl.

"Hey." He breathed, trying to catch his breath. "Do you know what's going on?"

Daryl glared at him, and quickened his pace. Jesus thought he was going to ignore him, when he finally muttered,

"Nah."

"Oh. Okay. Is...something wrong?" Jesus asked, hesitantly.

Daryl stopped, and turned to look at him.

"Are we just not going to talk about two days ago, when you almost killed us?"

Jesus flushed a little, and looked at the ground.

"Yeah, well, about that...."

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"The last time I took pain medication it just made me really tired. And then I honestly forgot I had even taken it. I mean, obviously I would never drive on pain pills. Well, I know I did, but I forgot, and I'm sorry, really. You're okay, though?"

"Yeah." Daryl muttered, continuing to walk again.

"So, were okay then?"

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Rovia. We're fine."

Jesus almost stoped walking.

"Rovia?" He asked.

"That's your name, is it not?" Daryl replied sarcastically.

Jesus shrugged.

"It is, but... I don't remember ever telling you what my last name was."

"I'm sure you told me at some point. Now hurry up. Rick's gonna be mad if we take much longer."

Jesus quickened his pace, and they arrived at the front gates a few minutes later.

A large crowd was gathered around the gates, Rick standing in the middle.

Daryl walked over to the group, and stood next to Eugene and Rosita. Jesus followed him.

Eugene turned to look at Jesus, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Have we been formally introduced before?" He asked.

Jesus shook his head, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Eugene Porter. Are you sure? I could've sworn I've seen you before."

Jesus swallowed nervously.

"No, I'm sure. I'm Paul. Paul Rovia. But my friends call me Jesus."

"Hm." Eugene hummed. "I know I've seen you before. I'm going to figure out where I've seen you.... because I know it wasn't just around Alexandria."

Jesus took a sharp breath, looking away. 

Daryl turned to look at Jesus, eyes narrowed.

"What's the matter?" He hissed. "You look...scared."

"It's just... do you remember the guy I stole the chocolate bars from?" Jesus whispered back, eyes shifting.

"Yeah?"

"It was him..."

Daryl said nothing for a moment, and Jesus wondered if he was mad.

But then the most unexpected thing happened. Daryl Dixon started laughing.

Jesus stared at him in disbelief.

"Let me get this straight." Daryl rasped, trying to compose himself. "You're worried that guy is going to, what? Beat you up over some chocolate?"

"To be fair, you almost beat me up over some chocolate."

Daryl snorted.

"You're an idiot."

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE LISTEN UP!" Rick yelled.

The crowd around him fell silent.

"As some of you know, we have a situation to discuss. But first, I think we should hear from our visitor. I want you to give him your full attention, understood?"

There were murmurs of confirmation around the group, and a man stepped out from behind Rick.

"Hello everyone. My name is Dr. Edwin Jenner."

Jesus frowned, thinking. The name sounded familiar.

"I'm a scientist from the CDC. I've been studying the outbreak, looking for a cure. I think I may have hit a breakthough, but I need volunteers to test the vaccine."

A woman stepped forward angrily.

"How do we know you aren't trying to kill us?" She asked.

"What would I gain in killing a few of you? You all obviously out number me, so if I kill one of you, you have the numbers to over power me. I'd be dead by tomorrow."

The women stepped back, seemingly appeased.

"What exactly would this vaccine do?" Beth called out.

"I'm not exactly sure yet. The goal would be to prevent you from turning. It would hopefully get rid of the disease from your body. So prevent you from turning once you've been bitten, or after natural death."

"What do you mean, turning after natural death?" Maggie asked.

"The disease is inside of you all, right now. When you're alive, the cells lay dormant. But once you die, the cells will take over your body. If we ever managed to re-establish civilization, we'd always have to worry about people turning after death. Without a cure, there is no hope for the future." Jenner explained.

"What is this cure supposed to do, exactly. How does it work?" Beth asked.

Jenner rubbed his temples.

"It's very complex, but I'll try to explain it as simply as possible. We all have the cells inside us, right? So if we were able to kill those cells, we could be free of them, thus getting rid of the turning after natural death. The problem is, they're very hard to get rid of. I tried radiation, but the cells ended up multiplying instead of dying. I started to inject the cells with a specific chemotherapy, called temozolomide. It's an alkylating antineoplastic agent. It took a week or two, but the cells completely died off, or at least to my knowledge. They could technically still exist, microscopically, of course, but I have no way of truly knowing.

So that takes care of killing off the cells, yes? Well the problem of being bitten, or scratched, still lies. So we really needed something of a shield, to protect the other cells. I started thinking, what protects our cells from other diseases? Antibiotics, of course. I injected the human cells with the common antibiotic, amoxicillin. The results are astounding. While not perfect, the antibiotics blocked the disease 50% of the time. I believe, with a combination of these drugs, and a little more time, I can perfect the cure."

There was silence. No one knew what to say. It sounded incredible, obviously. But was it really possible? Could they really live life normally again?

"So. Who wants to volunteer?" Jenner asked.

Beth stepped forward.

"You said you'd be injecting us with chemotherapy. What does that entail?"

"Ah, a wonderful question. This chemo is a fairly low dosage. It may cause some nausea, and maybe slight hair loss, but you should fine. You'd still have all your hair, and I have nausea medicine to combat any unwanted side effects."

Murmurs went up in the crowd.

Rick silenced everyone by holding up a hand.

"We need to have a town meeting. Now. Everyone go to the church."

****

In the end, there were ten volunteers.

Glenn, Maggie, Beth, Carol, Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Jesus, Noah, and Arron.

The people of Alexandria were far too nervous to leave the safety of the walls, and weren't ready to face the danger that lay outside. It was decided that if the cure worked, they would make the journey to the CDC to be injected. But that would be later.

Rick put Eric in charge, and asked Father Gabriel to keep an eye on Carl while they were gone.

Jenner was thrilled to have such a large number of participants.

The group left immediately, taking separate cars, following Jenner.

Rick, Michonne, Carol and Arron shared a car.

"I don't know about this..." Rick drawled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

Michonne put a hand on Ricks arm.

"What's the worst that could happen? Neither of the drugs will kill us. Sure, chemotherapy isn't the safest drug, but it still won't kill us. It's worth a shot, isn't it?"

Rick sighed.

"I suppose you're right."

Michonne smiled.

"I know I am."

Carol and Arron laughed from the backseat.

"You guys compliment each other well, you know." Aaron commented. 

"Are you too ever going to officially get together?" Carol asked. 

Rick cleared his throat, and shifted uncomfortably.

Michonne simply laughed. 

"We'all see." She replied. 

 

In another car, Jesus, Noah, Daryl, and Beth were talking about a completely different situation.

Daryl couldn't believe that they were just ignoring the fact they were about to be injected with medication by some random guy.

"Noah!" Jesus exclaimed. "How are you settling in? I should've visited you sooner, but I've been so busy..." he trailed off, a guilty look on his face.

Noah laughed, gently touching his leg.

"Don't look so guilty! I've been fine. It's great here, it really is. I'm glad you convinced me to come back with you."

Daryl watched them through the rear view mirror, scowling.

Beth sat next to him, humming quietly.

"How did you two meet?" She asked.

Noah and Jesus smiled.

"He saved my ass. There I was, standing in the middle of a giant herd of walkers. Carol had just been kidnapped. I was surrounded. I was sure I was going to die. But then, Noah ran in, and pulled me out!"

Noah shook his head.

"That was nothing! Paul and I were negotiating with Dawn, so we could get Carol back. Then Dawn said that if he gave me to her, she would let Carol go. And he said no! For some guy he had just met!"

Jesus punched his shoulder.

"You saved my life, you idiot. I wasn't going to give you up."

Noah's eyes softened.

"Thank you anyway. You're a good man, Paul."

Beth smiled.

"Aw, You too are so cute!"

Jesus rolled his eyes, and Noah laughed.

Daryl gripped the steering wheel, scowling.

He didn't know why he felt so...so... angry? No, angry wasn't the right word.

Possessive? Jealous, maybe?

But of what? Certainly not Paul. He didn't care about this Noah kid.

"Um, Daryl?" Beth asked gently.

"What?" He spat.

"It's just...you're going really fast."

Daryl glanced down at the speedometer. 70 MPH.

He forced himself to slow down.

"I just didn't want you to run into Jenner. If you kill him we're screwed." Beth said softly.

Daryl nodded, clenching his jaw. He tried to ignore the way Noah and Jesus whispered to each other the entire drive.

****

Two hours later, the four cars arrived at a large building, close to the edge of the city.

Jenner stepped out of the car, and waited for everyone else to get out.

The group gathered around him after a moment, and he smiled.

"Welcome to the CDC."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update this week, to make up for the long wait! 
> 
> Wow, 60,000 words! Only a few chapters left.... under a week to go! 
> 
> Will Jesus make it? ;)

~~~~  
"I pictured this place much.... bigger in my mind." Carol muttered, and Jenner laughed.

"It's not very grand, is it? Right this way then." He said, motioning for the group to follow him inside.

The group walked inside, and Jesus noted that the entrance was much like a hotel lobby.

"How are the lights still on?" Rick asked.

"We have a generator, for emergencies like this. I'm afraid I only have a few more weeks of power, though. That is why this test trail has to work. I don't have time to start over again." Jenner replied.

The group followed Jenner down a long hallway. He pushed open a door, and led them into a large room.

The room contained a lab, a computer room behind glass, and a large MRI scanner.

Jenner pointed to the MRI.

"I've been using that scanner to examine the walkers. I strapped them down, and ran them through the scanner. Let me show you all the results."

The group followed him to the computer lab, and Jenner pulled up a few images.

"This is a non infected, human brain. You see all the dark circles? Those indicate normal brain activity. Now, here's a scan with an infected brain."

The group gasped as the images came up. The entire brain was covered in shimmering red spots.

"And... well, you can obviously see the difference...." Jenner muttered. "So here's what I would like to do. I would like to scan you all, take a few blood samples. Take notes on you all. I want to be very specific with my notes. Who knows? In a few years, people may need to study them."

"So, just like our medical history?" Glenn asked.

Jenner nodded.

"Yes, that's all. The rest of you can wait in the lobby. I'll pull you into the lab one by one. The scan should take about a half an hour, then another half an hour for the blood work and questions. Sound good?"

The group muttered their confirmation.

"Good. I'll see Rick and Carol first. Rick, I'll scan you while I'm talking to Carol. Please come with me."

Rick followed Jenner, while everyone but Carol left and went to the lobby.

Once Rick was in the scanner, Jenner entered the lab once more.

"Okay. I want you to tell me anything I should know. Age, hight, weight, any previous medical conditions."

"I'm 41 years old. 5"6, 115 pounds. I previously had stage one breast cancer, but it was treated, and cured. I gave birth to my daughter Sophia 10 years ago, Via C Section. "

Jenner nodded slowly.

"Do you know your blood type? If not, that's okay. I'm drawing blood anyway."

"O negative."

"Mm. Very rare."

"Indeed."

"Alright. I'll draw your blood, look at the results, and then you'll get a scan a be done."

*****

It went on like this for some time, until the last two people who remained were Daryl and Jesus.

Daryl was being scanned, while Jesus was being questioned.

"Age, height, weight, any previous medical history I should know."

"30. 5"8, and 130 pounds. I was in a minor car accident when I was 8, and a few nerves were damaged. I don't have much feeling in my right calf anymore."

"Okay, let me take some blood, then I'll look at the results."

Jenner drew some blood, then left the room.

Paul waited patiently for Jenner to come back.

20 minutes later, Jenner entered the room, face slightly pale.

"What's wrong?" Jesus asked.

"How old did you say you were?"

"Uh, 30. Why?"

"Your blood tests show you should be closer to 37 or 38. There's no reason to lie about your age, you know."

Jesus froze.

"Also..." Jenner continued. "There was something very strange about your DNA. Almost like there were two sets of them... like there's two of you."

Jesus felt the blood drain from his face.

"Must have been a weird glitch." He whispered.

Jenner eyes him suspiciously.

"Yes. It must be." He replied icily.

The timer next to them went off, showing that Daryl's scans were complete.

"Mr. Dixon, come with me. Mr. Rovia, if you would please lay down, and allow the machine to scan you."

Daryl followed Jenner into the lab, and watched as Jesus slipped into the scanner.

"Mr. Dixon, would you please state your age, height, weight, and any other medical information I should know?"

"I would rather not."

"Mr Dixon, this information is essential, and you did volunteer to this. Now please, help me out."

Daryl scowled, but nodded anyway.

"I'm 39. 5"11 and 170 pounds. I have no other information to add."

"In the scanner, I could see various scars on your back. Do you care to tell me about those?"

Daryl snarled.

"That ain't your business."

"I mean no offense, only that it would be useful information."

"No."

"Then I shall respect your wishes. Now, we just need to take some blood."

Daryl paled.

"No. You aren't taking any blood from me."

Jenner sighed.

"Mr. Dixon, I have to. I will not be able to inject you unless I'm sure it's safe. Please cooperate."

The timer went off, and Jenner sighed again.

"I'll be right back." He muttered.

He came back a moment later, Jesus following him.

"Mr. Rovia, I was wondering if you could convince Mr. Dixon to give me some blood."

Jesus rolled his eyes.

"Come on Daryl. Give Dr. Jenner some blood, so we can get this over with."

Jenner stepped forward, holding out a butterfly needle and an empty vial.

Daryl's eyes went wide, and he moved towards the door.

"Daryl. Stop it. Come on."

Daryl shook his head, no words were able to come out of his mouth.

Paul's eyes softened.

"Are you.... scared of needles?" He finally asked.

Daryl scoffed.

"No." He denied, but it sounded fake even to his own ears.

Jesus smiled a little, and gently took Daryl's arm. He led him back to a chair.

"Daryl. You've been _shot_ before. And _stabbed_. This is nothing. Just close your eyes, and grab my hand if you need to."

Daryl took a shaky breath in, and closed his eyes. He gripped Paul's hand tightly.

Jesus nodded to Jenner, and Jenner slid the needle into Daryl's arm.

Daryl promptly passed out.

*****

When Daryl woke again, he laid in an unfamiliar bed, with Jesus asleep next to him.

"Paul?" He croaked.

Jesus stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep out of his groggy eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay..."

Daryl felt a pang in his chest.

"Oh, um, thanks." He mumbled awkwardly.

Jesus slowly brushed the hair out of Daryl's eyes, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Daryl's breath hitched, and his heart started to beat a little bit faster, though he didn't know why.

"Jenner injected us. All of us. He thought it would be best if we did it while you were still unconscious." Jesus whispered.

Daryl looked down at the ground. No doubt the group would make fun of him tomorrow. As if reading his mind, Jesus said,

"I didn't tell anyone, you know. Jenner and I lied and said your scan took a bit longer than usual, and you had fallen asleep. Everyone but Carol seemed to buy it. She seemed a little suspicious."

Jesus laughed a little.

Daryl realized how much he loved that laugh. It scared him.

"Well, thanks for being there." He rasped.

Jesus smiled.

"I'm always here for you, you know that."

He leaned a little closer to Daryl, his finger tips brushing across Daryl's now bruised skin. Daryl shivered, and Paul looked up at him.

The two men made eye contact, Blue meeting grey.

Daryl licked his lips, and Jesus's eyes flickered downwards, before looking back into Daryl's eyes.

Daryl unconsciously moved closer. He could feel Paul's warm breath, smell the pine soap on his skin. His eyes fluttered closed. Jesus moved closer and then....

There was a loud knock on the door.

Both men jumped, and moved away from each other guiltily.

Daryl's thoughts whirled around him, messy and confusing.

What had happened? What had he just been about to do?"

Rick burst in through the door, followed by Michonne.

"You guys need to hurry. It's Beth."

Jesus was up in an instant, running towards the door.

Daryl followed after, still in a dreamy state of shock.

The group ran down the hallway, into another room. Maggie sat next to Beth, crying, while Glenn tried to comfort her.

Jenner was running around the room, desperately taking notes and looking at the different bottles of medicine.

Beth was shaking and throwing up, tears streaming down her face.

"We need to find the nausea medication." Jenner called, and Jesus was at his side in an instant.

The two men flew through the medicine cabinet, until Jesus saw the words,

"*Gabapention*."

Jesus breathed a sigh of relief.

"I found it!" He yelled.

Jenner snatched the bottle from his hand, and quickly poured out two pills, holding them out to Beth.

She took the medicine, and closed her eyes, drawing in a shaking breath.

She appeared to be doing better for awhile, but then began throwing up again.

Jenner took her fever and paled.

He drew Jesus aside.

"She's at 105..." he whispered. "You clearly have some kind of medical background. What do we do?"

Jesus swore.

"Shit. I don't know. Put a cool compress on. That's all we can do, right? Advil will suppress the fever, but that could be dangerous. She'd die."

Jenner nodded solemnly, and ran to get a cold compress.

It didn't help. Beth's eyes rolled back, and rashes appeared, covering her skin.

Maggie was sobbing, and Glenn looked terrified. Rick stared at Beth, face emotionless. Michonne gripped his hand, and Noah looked around the room, not sure what to do.

"Shes having a reaction to the chemo." Jenner whispered frantically. "I don't know what to do."

Jesus turned to look at Beth, fighting back panic.

"I think she had a bad reaction to the chemo, but the anti-nausea made it probably worse. I think she's allergic to it."

"What do suggest? Benadryl?"

"I think it's worth a shot."

The two men ran around the building for 15 minutes, looking for the drug. By the time they arrived back with it though, it was too late.

Jesus fell to his knees, and Jenner let out a distressed noise.

Maggie was screaming, gripping her sister's hand.

Jenner knelt next to Jesus.

"We have to keep a close eye on her. She could still turn. I'm not sure."

Jesus turned to look at him, eyes dead.

"We killed her. We killed her because we didn't act fast enough."

Jenner frantically shook his head.

"No. Not we. I killed her. Don't blame yourself. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Jesus said nothing, and Jenner ran to grab a notepad, furiously taking notes.

"We have to get her in the scanner." Jenner announced. "I'm sorry she died, but we're losing time. Losing precious information."

Maggie looked at him, eyes filled with rage.

"You killed her, and now she's just your experiment, is that right? Well she was my sister! My family! And now she's dead!"

Jenner paled.

"Of course she's not just an experiment! But technically, this whole thing was an experiment! Do you want her death to be for nothing? Or will you allow me to scan her, so we can get very important information?"

Maggie's face crumpled.

"Scan her then. But if she turns, I want to be the one to kill her."

****

Beth never did end up turning. According to the MRI results, the red cells were still there, but not active.

Jenner smiled a little.

Perfect. He had achieved what he wanted. It was possible that the cells would die now, with another few doses of chemo.

It was a shame that Maggie wouldn't let him keep the body. There were so many theories he had to test, but she demanded a "proper burial."

He sighed. She obviously didn't understand the severity of the situation. Studying Beth's body could be the difference between life and death for others! Cure or no cure! But of course, she refused to a knowledge that.

He examined Mr. Rovia's blood carefully.

"Hm. Very interesting..." he murmured.

Yes, he would be forced to keep Mr. Rovia here. He needed to do more research on him. Something was very off with him, and he intended to find out what it was.

He could see it now.

In the future, he was the most highly regarded scientist of all time. He found the cure, AND discovered how it was possible for Mr. Paul Rovia to exist.

Oh yes, life was about to get very interesting.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to say: 
> 
> 1\. All of the medicine descriptions should be fairly accurate, as I take all of the medications listed. But if you have something to add that would make this fic more medically realistic, let me know. 
> 
> 2\. I actually looked up the actors that play Daryl, Carol and Jesus, and took note on their weight and height. I changed them slightly though, so total disclaimer there. 
> 
> 3\. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! I love you all


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is one of the last chapters. I'm really excited and sad all at once. Once this fic is done, I'll move on to the next great adventure. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

  
Jesus dreamed of death.

_"Mr. Rovia, your time is running out. Do you have a plan?"_

_Jesus let out a long, tired sigh._

" _I'm afraid not, but here's the thing. How do I even know if Daryl's in love with me or not?"_

" _He could be in love with you right now, you're absolutely right. But, as always, it must be expressed as true love's kiss. And obviously, Daryl must initiate said kiss._ "

 _Jesus groaned_.

_"Can I like, give him a gentle nudge?" He asked._

_Death laughed_.

_"No, Mr. Rovia, this is what you agreed to. You get extra time with Daryl, and I get some entertainment. Giving him a nudge would ruin my entertainment, wouldn't it?"_

_"I suppose so." Jesus replied glumly._

_Death snapped his fingers, and an hour glass appeared_.

" _You have two days left, Mr. Rovia. Use them wisely, as they could be your last._ "

Jesus woke with a start.

He found that he had fallen asleep on a couch in the lobby, in a sitting position that was not very comfortable. Daryl was sitting next to him, watching him intently.

He blinked sleepily at Daryl.

"What are you doing here?" He mumbled.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Keepin an eye on you. What do ya think I'm doing?"

Jesus smiled a little.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm okay."

"Yeah. I know." Daryl responded, shifting a little. "I just wanted.... to make sure you were okay."

"Well, thank you."

"Mhm. I'm not sure I trust this Jenner guy, to be honest."

Jesus straightened, turned sideways, and stretched his legs out, placing his feet on Daryl's lap. Daryl looked down at them with a look of disgust, but said nothing.

"Why don't you trust him?" Jesus asked. "Is it because of Beth? Because I really don't think he meant to-"

"It's not about Beth." Daryl cut him off.

"Well, what's wrong then?"

Daryl looked around nervously. He made sure no one was around, before he leaned in and whispered,

"I think he wants to keep us here, as, I don't know, some experiment. Forever."

Jesus raised an eyebrow. Daryl was far too paranoid.

"Why do you think that?" He whispered back.

"Because, I heard him talking to himself in the lab, while you were sleeping. He sounded crazy, Paul."

Jesus wanted to brush Daryl off, claim that he was being ridiculous, but the look on Daryl's face frightened him.

"We should get the others and get out of here. You're right. I get weird vibes from this place."

Daryl nodded, looking relieved.

The two men stood up, and quietly walked around the corner to the rooms where everyone slept.

They were about to knock on Rick's door, when Jenner stepped out of the shadows.

"Leaving so soon, are we?" He purred.

Daryl stepped protectively in front of Jesus.

"We're just going to talk to Rick." Jesus supplied.

Jenner laughed.

"Oh, save it. I heard everything you said. But I'm willing to make a compromise."

Daryl growled.

"No need for such hostility, Mr. Dixon. Here's the deal. I let all of you go, in exchange for Mr. Rovia."

Jesus went pale.

"Why him?" Daryl asked. "You can take me. Leave him."

Jenner smiled.

"Well that just won't do, Mr. Dixon. You see, there is something very special about Mr. Rovia. Something he hasn't told me, or anyone else. But I will get him to tell me, and if he doesn't, oh well, I'll figure it out eventually."

"You're sick." Daryl spat.

"Oh, please. Everyone that's still alive is sick. You have to be, in order to survive out there."

"You aren't taking him."

"Daryl..." Jesus began quietly. "It's okay. Leave me here. Go. Take the others."

"No, Paul! I'm not leaving you with this... psychopath."

Jenner tapped his fingers against his chin.

"Alright. I see a solution to our problem. I let everyone leave, and the two of you stay here. If you don't agree, I'm shutting this place down, and no one can get in or out."

"Deal." Jesus said, before Daryl could protest.

"You have 15 minutes to get your friends out. Good luck."

The next 15 minutes were chaos. Jesus explained the situation to Rick, and he was furious.

Somehow, Jesus convinced the group to leave.

"It's okay." He promised. "I know you'll come back and get us out. For right now, you need to go."

After much protesting,The group left 10 minutes later, promising that they would come back.

Daryl and Jesus stared at each other nervously after the group left.

"What now?" Jesus whispered.

Daryl shrugged.

"We kill him. What else can we do?"

"I don't know. Do you think all that stuff he said about the cure was true?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out."

"I assure you, everything I said was true." Jenner said from behind them, making them both jump. "But now it's time to go back to the lab."

*****

It was a day later.

Jenner kept Daryl and Jesus strapped down in the lab, taking blood samples, scans, and measurements.

"The cells are beginning to die off." He murmured. "That's very good news. The bad news, is that I still don't know what Mr. Rovia is hiding. But I'll find out."

The tests took all day. It was nightfall before Jenner left them alone.

"Get some rest, boys." He said cheerily. "You have a big day ahead of you!"

Jesus hoped he wouldn't have to find out what that meant.

"Okay." Daryl began, after Jenner had left the room for the night. "We need to get out of here."

Jesus nodded, testing the bonds around his wrists.

"I think I can get us out of the bonds, but then we have to sneak out undetected."

"Good. How long do you think it will take to get us out of the ropes?"

Jesus made a face.

"Maybe 45 minutes?"

"Okay. Just try to hurry."

***

30 minutes later, Jesus was free and was working to untie Daryl.

"Daryl." He whispered. "Is that...a _grenade_ over there?"

Daryl's head snapped up, and he squinted in the direction Jesus was pointing.

"Fuck." He muttered. "I think it is."

Jesus smiled.

"Good." He replied. "I've always wanted to use one of those."

***

Alarms blared the second the two men left the lab. Daryl swore, and Jesus frowned.

"You two better get back in the lab." Jenner's voice called over the intercom. "I'm already shutting the doors. They cannot be reopened. Once they shut, they'll be shut forever."

Daryl and Jesus exchanged a glance.

"He really is a fucking psycho, locking us in here forever."

"Yeah, let's talk about it later, Paul. Right now we need to _move_ "

Jesus couldn't agree more.

They were sprinting down the hallway, alarms wailing, red lights flashing.

The hallways were dark, completely unlit beside the red, flickering lights. It created somewhat of a strobe effect, and Jesus nearly ran into a wall.

The two men took a wrong turn twice, as it was harder to navigate in the dark.

They finally arrived at the lobby, where they could see the front entrance.

Jesus let out a sight of relief, but his relief didn't last long. The gates were closing rapidly, only a foot off the ground.

"We're not going to make it!" Daryl called, glancing wildly around, looking for another escape option.

"Yes we are!" Jesus yelled. "Now duck!"

"What?"

"Duck!!" Jesus repeated, throwing the grenade.

Daryl covered his face with his arms, turning away.

The grenade hit the metal gate, and was followed by an explosion.

It was such a large explosion, it knocked Jesus off his feet, and Daryl was flung against the nearest wall. 

The explosion would start to attract walkers soon, and Daryl knew they needed to move quickly.

He pulled Jesus to his feet, and they were running again. The cold winter air slammed into them as they ran outside, but neither one of them cared.

"There's no cars!" Daryl yelled. "What do we do?"

"Run! Just run as far as you can!"

Daryl nodded, and although he was already out of breath, he kept running.

"What kind of idiot puts a grenade in the same room with his prisoners?" Jesus asked. "I mean, really."

"Paul, I'd love to chat, but there's quite possibly a madman chasing us, as well as a hoard of walkers, so I'm kind of focusing on _not_ _dying_."

Daryl thought he heard Paul laugh, and the two of them ran on.

****

They collapsed onto the snowy ground, about two miles from the CDC.

"Can't...go..any...farther." Daryl panted.

Jesus nodded, still unable to speak.

They laid in the snow for a few minutes, nothing but their heavy breathing filling the silence.

"What do we do now?" Jesus breathed.

Daryl pushed himself to his feet.

"We keep going. It might take a day or two to walk back to Alexandria, but we have no supplies. We don't have time to stop. At the very least, we know we have water." Daryl muttered, indicating the snow.

Jesus paled, a realization dawning on him.

He had a few hours left to live.

He wasn't going to make it back to Alexandria.

He was never going to see his family again.

"Paul? You okay?" Daryl asked.

Jesus managed to push himself to his feet.

"I'm fine, Daryl." He replied. 

He didn't look fine.

In fact, he looked awful, but Daryl didn't press the issue. After all, they had just been through hell. 

The two men continued walking in silence.

After about a mile, Jesus turned to Daryl.

"You'd be okay out here alone, wouldn't you?" He asked.

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Just...if I wasn't here. You'd be okay?"

Daryl shrugged.

"You're not going anywhere anyway, but yeah, I'm sure I'd manage. Why?"

"Just wondering...."

They fell into silence again.

The hours dragged on. Jesus began to feel weaker and weaker.

There was a low voice that whispered into his ear,

"Twenty minutes...."

Jesus collapsed to his knees, struggling to breathe. It felt like his lungs were filling with water.

"Paul?" Daryl asked, kneeling beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Daryl..." Paul gasped. "I have to tell you something."

He coughed, and Daryl helped him lay down.

"Just breathe...okay? Just breathe."

"Daryl..."

"Shh. You're okay."

"No. You need to listen to me. This is important." Jesus wheezed.

Daryl froze, seeing how serious Paul was.

"What is it?" He whispered.

"A few months ago, I made a deal with Death." Jesus began.

Daryl's eyes went wide.

"My dreams...but....they're real?"

"Listen." Jesus commanded gently. "I tried to tell you before. We were together in the future, you were my boyfriend. We were happy, but I wanted more. I wanted more than being with you, and I shouldn't have. I wished I could have met you earlier in life, so we could spend more time together. Death said if I could get you to fall in love with me before 12 weeks was up, I'd get my wish. If not, I would die."

Daryl felt like his heart stopped beating. Time stopped ticking.He could say nothing, only stare as Paul continued talking.

"It was stupid of me. Selfish. I should've been happy with what I was given."

As if made out of mist, Jesus's legs started slowly dissolving, and Daryl sucked in a deep breath.

"Paul..." he whispered, horrified. "Your legs..."

"It's okay, Daryl. I know. I can't feel anything, and It doesn't hurt. But I don't have much time. I need to tell you something."

The mist continued to creep up Jesus's body.

"Paul..." Daryl rasped. "I can't...I can't do this."

  
"Shh. Listen to me. Someday, someone will love every inch of you- the moonlight grey of your eyes, the scowl on your face, the sadness that you so desperately try to hide from the world. They are going to kiss all the parts of you that you have hidden away, and tell you how beautiful it all is.

Someday, someone will say, "I love you, and not just the parts that make sense."

You need to believe them, and believe it's true. Happy endings aren't just for princes in a fairytale, they're for broken and messed up people, just like us. But most importantly, a happy ending will be written for you.

Someday, someone will come to you with a happily ever promise, and slide it over your finger. Someday you are going to take someone's breath away."

Jesus paused to cough, the mist traveling up his chest. Daryl stared at him, eyes filled with unshed tears, mouth filled with unspoken words.

"Someday, you will realize just how stunning you really are, and you will fall to your knees. Just like you've made me, so many times before." Jesus finished.

"Paul... no..." Daryl choked out.

The tears were falling freely now, but Jesus smiled.

"It doesn't hurt, Daryl. Death doesn't hurt. You'll live on, I know you will. And you'll be happy. I promise. You'll find me in the next life, if not this one." 

Daryl let out a strangled sob.

"I'll never be happy without you." He replied desperately.

And then they were kissing. Hard and fierce and desperate.

Daryl thought it was the best thing he had felt in his entire life. But it was also the worst. 

They kissed until Jesus's soft lips turned to mist, until he was gone.

Daryl stared at the spot he had once been, clutching desperately at the snow, begging for Paul to come back.

For three months, he had said nothing of his affections.

But now, he stared at the spot where Jesus had once sat, and whispered,

"I love you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! 
> 
> I'm super sad this is over, but also really excited to start another project. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I really appreciate the comments and kudos!

  
_"Wake up." Death commanded, poking Jesus's face_.

_Jesus groaned, eyes fluttering open._

_"Where is everyone else?" He asked._

_"What do you mean?" Death asked, cocking his head._

_"I'm dead, right? Aren't I in Heaven? Or Hell?"_

_Death laughed_.

_"You aren't dead, I simply wished to talk to you one last time."_

_"Wait...what_?"

_"You did it, Mr. Rovia. Congratulations. Daryl technically kissed you before your time was up."_

_Jesus was at a loss for words._

_"So I get to see Daryl again_?"

 _Death smiled slightly_.

_"Yes. Are you ready to see him again?"_

" _I...yes. I am._ "

_Death raised a hand, but Jesus stopped him._

" _Wait_!"

_"Yes?" Death asked, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure you don't want to make another deal with me."_

_Jesus shook his head_.

_"No, not that. I was just wondering...about you and Life."_

_Death laughed quietly_.

_"Yes, you would, wouldn't you? We are....working things out. I think things will be okay."_

_Jesus smiled_.

" _Good_."

_"Go, Mr. Rovia. Mr. Dixon is waiting."_

  
Jesus woke up in a bedroom he hadn't seen in months.

Light was streaming in through the closed blinds, and there was a lump of blankets next to him.

Jesus rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up.

He jumped in surprise as the lump of "blankets" moved.

"Daryl?" He asked, wondering if everything had all just been a dream.

Daryl shot up, eyes wide.

" _Paul_."

Jesus let out a small gasp as he was tackled onto the bed, falling flat on his back.

To his shock, Daryl was hugging him tightly, wet tears beginning to stream down his face.

"Paul..." he whispered. "Shit. I remember everything. Oh my god, Paul. You're so stupid. So stupid."

Daryl pulled away for a moment, and Paul winced, waiting for a scolding.

Instead, Daryl surprised him once more by kissing him fiercely.

Jesus let out a soft gasp, and Daryl pulled him closer.

After a moment, Daryl pulled away, staring intently into Jesus's eyes.

Jesus's blue eyes were wide, trying to process what had just happened.

For the first time in their relationship, Jesus was speechless.

Daryl, however, rambled on.

"You are such an idiot, Paul. That was so stupid! Really, what were you thinking? I was so scared, Paul. You _died_ for fucks sake! I'm so mad at you. I love you, I love you so much. "

He was crying again, pulling Jesus into another hug.

Jesus finally unfroze.

"I love you too, Daryl."

Daryl pulled away again, standing up.

Jesus worried he would leave, but Daryl walked over to the dresser in the corner of the room instead.

"I wanted to give this to you before...well, before we were flung into the past... but I was nervous. I shouldn't have waited. But I'm doing this now."

He turned around holding out a small black box.

Jesus took it from him, feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

He opened the box, and his eyes widened as he saw two silver rings inside.

"It's not what you think." Daryl said quickly. "Not yet. They're promise rings."

Jesus started laughing, and Daryl looked offended.

"Why are you laughing?" He demanded, worried Jesus was making fun of him.

Jesus smiled.

"It's just....so not _Daryl_ , For you to do something like this. It's so...romantic."

Daryl scoffed, but he was secretly pleased.

Jesus slipped the smaller ring onto his finger, grinning.

Daryl sat next to him, taking the bigger ring.

Jesus intertwined their fingers, enjoying the visual of the rings on their fingers.

"You're amazing." Jesus murmured, planting a kiss on Daryl's cheek.

Daryl rolled his eyes, laying back on the bed.

Jesus laid next to him, letting out a content sigh.

"What are we promising, with the promise rings?" He asked.

Daryl frowned.

"You're promising you'll stop doing stupid things."

"We both know I can't do that."

"Fine. Promise you'll never leave like that again."

"I can agree to that."

"Good. Honestly, I think it's your goal to drive me Insane."

Jesus laughed.

"Rick would kill me if I cost him his best friend."

Daryl fell silent for a moment, frowning and chewing on his bottom lip.

"It's going to be hard, not having Glenn around anymore..." he eventually whispered.

Jesus turned to look at him.

"I know. But I got to meet Beth, and Hershel, and Noah. They were great."

"I notice you didn't mention Lori or Shane...." Daryl replied, smirking slightly.

Jesus slapped his arm.

"They weren't that great, to be honest."

Daryl laughed quietly, and Jesus kissed him gently again.

"I've missed this." Jesus admitted. "Us."

"Me too."

They laid in silence for a moment.

"I'm still trying to figure out what happened." Daryl muttered.

Jesus thought about it for a moment.

"I think everything came Unglued..." He finally replied.

And Daryl had to admit, that pretty much summed everything up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
